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THE  STORY  OF  A  HOUSE 


WRITTEN  AND   ILLUSTRATED  BY 


VIOLLET-LE-DUC 


THE  OLD  CHATEAU. 


THE 


STORY  OF  A  HOUSE, 


TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  FRENCH  OF  VIOLLET-LE-DUC 


BY 


GEORGE   M.   TOWLE. 


ILLUSTRATED     BY     THE     AUTHOR. 


BOSTON: 
.TAMES    K.    OSGOOD    AND   COMPANY 

Late  Ticknor  &  Fields,  ani>  Fields,  Osgood,  .V  Co 

1874. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1874, 

BY     JAMES     R.     OSGOOD     &    CO., 

in  the  office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington 


University  Press:  Welch,  Bigelow,  &  Co., 
Cambridge. 


SRLF 

URL  /  y_^/ 


COXTEITS, 


-♦- 


Chapter  Page 

I.    M.  Paul  has  an  Idea 1 

II.    Paul's  Idea  is  developed,  with  a  little  Assistance  .  15 

III.  The  Tree  of  Science 31 

IV.  Paul's  Ideas  about  Aut,  and  how  they  were  modified  37 
V.    Paul  follows  a  Course  of  Practical  Construction         .  47 

First  Lesson  .....•••■  50 

Second  Lesson    .........  61 

VI.    Paul   is   induced  to  establish  certain   Differences   be- 
tween Morality  and  House-Building    ....  72 

Third  Lesson          ........  74 

VII.    Planting  the  House,  and  Operations  on  the  Ground    .  85 

VIII.    Paul  reflects 96 

IX.    Paul  as  Inspector  of  Works 104 

X.    Paul  begins  to  understand 114 

XL    Building  in  Elevation 125 

XII.    Paul  addresses  certain  Observations  to  his  Cousin,  and 

RECEIVES    HIS   REPLIES 133 

XIII.  The  Visit  to  the  Work-Yard 138 

XIV.  Paul  sees  the  Necessity  of  perfecting  himself'  in  the 

Art  of  Designing 144 

XV.    The  Study  of  the  Staircases 150 

XVI.    Criticism 155 

XVII.    Paul  asks  what  Architecture  is i,;,; 

XVIII.    Theoretical  Studies 177 

XIX.    Continuation  of  Theoretical  Studies    ....  188 


IV  CONTENTS. 


XX.  A  Hiatus 201 

XXI.  Resumption  of  Building.     The  Carpentry  Work          .  208 

XXII.  The  Chimneys 223 

XXIII.  The  Canteen 232 

XXIV.  Joinery 235 

XXV.  What  Paul  learned  at  Chateauroux    ....  243 

XXVI.  The  Roofing  and  Plumbing 252 

XXVII.  Approaching  Completion 262 

XXVIII.  The  House- Warming 269 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 


Plate 
I. 

II. 


III. 


IV. 


V. 


The  Old  Chateau Frontispiece. 

Fig.  1.  Plan  of  the  Ground-Floor 

"  2.        "        "        First  Story 

"  3.         "        "        Main  House  . 

"  4.        "        "        Attic  Floor 

"  5.  Front  Elevation 

"  6.  Sketch  and  Section  of  Drain  . 

"  7.  Section  of  Clay- Bed 

"8.  "  Muddy  Soil 

"9.  "  Cellar  Wall 

"  10.  Perspective      "        " 

"  11.  The  Cellar  Stairs  .... 

"  12.  Corbels  and  Trusses   .... 

"  13.  Framework 

"  14.  Sections  of  Timber 

"  15.  Old  and  New  Fashioned  Carpentry 

"  16  and  17.  Joining  bent  Pieces 

"  18.  Couplings 

"  19.  Tracing  out  the  Site. 

"  20.  The  Graphometer    .... 

"  21.  Plan  of  the  Cellars  . 

"  22.  A  Cavalier 

"  23.  An  Angle-Stone   . 

"  24.  Section  of  Sewer    .... 

"  25.  The  Centrings      .... 

"  26.  Plan  and  Section  of  Vent-Holes  . 

"  27.  The  Vent-Holes  as  built    . 


Page  27 

40 
.       43 


55 

56 

58 

63 

65 

66 

69 

75 

80 

81 

83 

83 

87 

94 

105 

108 

110 

113 

115 

117 

119 


28.  Economizing  Material 120 


132 


VI  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

V.     Fig.  29.  The  Garden  Front 105 

"  30.  The  Angle-Stones  (Section  and  Perspective)       .  126 

"  31.  The  Window-Jambs 128 

"  32.  Trimmings  for  the  Ceiling 130 

VI.       "  33.  Binding- Joists  and  Trimmers 

"         "  34.  Perspective  View 

VII.       "  35.  The  Site 138 

"  36.  Concave  Sections 141 

"  37.  Rhomboids 147 

"  38.  Paul's  Model 148 

VIII.       "  39.  Outline  of  the  Main  Staircase     ....  150 

"  40.  String-Course  for  Staircase 153 

"  41.  Spiral  Step 154 

IX.       "  42.  Section  and  Details  of  Front  Wall        .        .        .  184 

X.       "  43.  A  Bay-Window 186 

XI.       "  44.  The  Bay- Window  for  the  Billiard-Room         .         .  187 

"  45.  String-Courses 192 

XII.        "  46.  Sectional  View  of  the  Hocse 210 

"  47.  Plan  of  the  Roof ■ .  211 

"  48.  Frame  of  the  Roof 212 

XIII.  "  49.  Roof  of  the  Main  Staircase  .        ...        .        .  214 

"  50.   Flaws 216 

"  51.  Supports  for  Floorings 217 

"  52.  \ 

"  53.  \  Sawed  Faces 219 

"  54.  ) 

"  55.  Dormer-Windows  (Front  and  Section)  .         .        .  221 

"  56.  Tracing  of  a  Door 237 

"  57.  Details  of  a  Door 239 

"  58.  Outline  of  Casement 240 

"  59.  Details  of  Casement 241 

"  60.  Manner  of  Slating 255 

XIV.  "  61.  Plumbing  of  the  Roof 256 

XV.       "  62.  The  House  Opening 282 


THE  STORY  OF  A  HOUSE. 


-o-oj^ejoo- 


CHAPTER   I 


M.    PAUL   HAS   AX   IDEA. 

•GOOD  time  is  that  of  vacation.  The  skies  are 
soft  ;  the  country  assumes  its  most  alluring-  garb ; 
the  fruits  are  ripe.  All  things  smile  for  the  young 
scholar  who  brings  home,  in  his  baggage,  the  proofs  of  the 
useful  employment  of  his  time. 

Everybody  congratulates  him  on  his  success,  and  encour- 
ages him  to  look  forward,  beyond  the  six  M'eeks  of  rest  and 
recreation,  to  attractive  labors  crowned  by  a  brilliant  career. 

Yes,  it  is  a  good  time;  it  seems  then  that  the  air  is  lighter, 
the  sun  more  dazzling,  the  fields  more  green.  The  dull  rain 
seems  charged  with  delicious  odors. 

No  sooner  is  it  daylight,  than  the  scholar  hastens  to  re- 
visit the  beloved  nooks  in  the  park,  and  the  fountain,  and 
the  little  lake,  and  the  farm ;  to  make  inquiries  for  the  horses, 
the  boat,  and  the  plantations. 

He  chats  with  the  farmer's  dame,  who  smilingly  gives  him 
a  nice  cake,  all  hot.  He  follows  the  game-keeper,  who  re- 
counts the  news  of  the  neighborhood  as  he  makes  his  round. 


THE  STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 


The  bells  of  the  flocks  charm  him,  as  does  the  monotonous 
song  of  the  little  herdsman,  who  has  grown  somewhat,  and 
aspires  to  the  rank  of  a  full-blown  shepherd. 

Yes,  it  is  a  good  time.  But,  the  first  days  over,  the  shade 
of  the  old  oaks,  the  beloved  vicinity,  the  long  walks,  the  gossip 
of  the  game-keeper,  and  even  the  boat,  become  veiled  in  a 
secret  weariness,  if  some  favorite  occupation  does  not  inter- 
vene to  employ  the  thoughts.  It  is  the  privilege  of  old  age 
alone  to  be  content  with  memories,  and  to  find  joys  always 
new  in  the  contemplation  of  the  fields  and  woods. 

The  provision  of  memories  is  soon  exhausted  by  youth, 
and  indolent  meditation  is  not  suited  to  its  temper. 

M.  Paul,  at  sixteen  years  of  age,  did  not  make  these  reflec- 
tions ;  but  after  a  week  passed  at  the  country-house  of  his 
father,  a  gentleman  farmer,  who  possessed  a  fine  estate  in 
Berri,  he  had  nearly  exhausted  the  sum  of  the  impressions  to 
which  his  return  to  the  paternal  acres  had  given  rise.  How 
many  projects,  throughout  the  scholastic  year,  had  he  not  made 
and  postponed  to  the  approaching  vacation  time !  It  seemed 
to  him  that  six  weeks  would  by  no  means  afford  him  time 
to  realize  them.  How  many  things  had  he  to  see,  to  say,  to 
do  !  Yet  in  a  week  everything  had  been  seen,  said,  and 
done. 

Besides,  his  elder  sister,  who  had  been  recently  married, 
had  gone  on  a  long  journey  with  her  husband ;  and  as  for 
Lucie,  his   younger  sister,  she   appeared  to  be  more   absorbed 


.1/.   PAI'L    HAS   AN  IDEA. 


in  her  doll  and  its  trousseau,  than  in  the  thoughts  of  mon- 
sieur her  brother. 

It  had  rained  all  day.  The  farm,  which  Paul  visited  for 
the  fiftieth  time,  seemed  to  him  very  melancholy  and  sombre. 
The  chickens,  sheltering  themselves  along  the  walls,  seemed 
pensive;  and  even  the  ducks,  dabbling  in  a  muddy  puddle, 
were  taciturn.  The  game-keeper,  having  gone  out  to  kill  a 
hare,  had  carried  Paul  with  him,  but  both  had  returned  within 
doors  splashed  and  tolerably  moist.  Paul  had,  to  his  disap- 
pointment, found  the  game-keeper's  tales  long  and  tedious; 
inasmuch  as  he  had  heard  them,  with  few  variations,  for 
the  third  time.  Add  to  this  that  the  veterinary  surgeon  had 
declared,  that  morning,  that  Paul's  pony  must  be  kept  in 
the  stable  a  week,  on  account  of  a  chill. 

Paul  had  read  the  paper  after  dinner,  but  he  found  the 
political  news  little  interesting;  and  as  for  the  news  item-, 
they  were  deplorably  meagre. 

M.  de  I  randelau  (that  was  Paul's  father's  name)  was  too  much 
engrossed  with  his  land  improvements,  and  perhaps  also  with 
his  gout,  to  try  to  raise  the  veil  of  ennui  which  floated  be- 
fore the  vision  of  monsieur  his  son;  and  .Madame  de  <  lan- 
delau,  still  remaining  under  the  feeling  of  regret  at  the  recent 
departure  of  her  eldest  daughter,  worked  with  a  sort  of  des- 
peration on  a  piece  of  embroidery,  the  destination  of  which 
was  unknown  to  any  one,  and  perhaps  even  to  the  lady  who 
so  carefully  plied  her  needles. 


THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 


"  You  have  received  a  letter  from  Marie  ? "  said  M.  de 
Gandelau,  putting  down  the  paper. 

"  Yes,  dear,  this  morning.  They  are  delighted ;  the 
weather  has  befriended  them,  and  they  have  made,  she  says, 
some  charming  excursions  in  the  Oberland.  They  must  by 
this  time  be  going  over  the  Simplon  into  Italy.  Marie  will 
write  again  from  the  hotel  at  Baveno  — " 

"  Very  well ;   and  their  health  ?  " 

"Is  excellent." 

"And  their  plan  is  still  to  go  to  Constantinople  on  this 
important  matter  ? " 

"  Yes ;     X ,   it   seems,   has   received   a   pressing  letter ; 

their  sojourn  in  Italy  w7ill  be  very  brief.  They  count  on 
sailing  from  Naples  in  a  month  at  the  latest ;  and  they 
scarcely  expect  to  return  under  a  year,  Marie  tells  me.  She 
says  this,  without  seeming  to  be  affected  by  the  length  of 
such  an  absence  ;  and  I  feel  on  this  account  a  heart-burning, 
dear,  that  the  best  of  all  reasoning  cannot  relieve." 

"  Good  !  Think  you,  dear  wife,  that  we  marry  our  children 
for  ourselves  ?  And  was  not  that  agreed  upon  ?  They  say 
that  few  affections  are  strong  enough   to   resist   travelling  in 

company.     X is  a   worthy   and   honest    fellow,   laborious 

and  somewhat  ambitious,  —  which  is  by.  no  means  a  bad 
thing.  Marie  loves  him  ;  she  is  intelligent  and  well  bred. 
They  will  come  out  of  the  ordeal  successfully  I  doubt  not, 
and  will  return  to  us  like  two  good  comrades,  having  learned 


.1/.   PAUL   HAS  AN  IDEA. 


to  know  each  other  well,  to  aid  each  other,  and  suffice  for 
each  other,  with  that  grain  of  independence  which  it  is 
necessary  to  have,  in  order  to  live  in  good  accord  with  one's 
kindred." 

"  Yon  are  perhaps  right,  my  dear ;  but  this  long  absence 
is  none  the  less  melancholy,  and  the  year  will  seem  to  me  a 
long  one.  In  spite  of  all,  I  shall  be  very  happy  when  I  can 
occupy  myself  arranging  their  room  here,  and  when  I  shall 
only  have  a  few  days  to  reckon  before  their  arrival." 

"  Xo  doubt,  no  doubt !  and  I  too  shall  embrace  the  dear 
creatures  with  all  my  heart,  —  and  Paul,  too !  But,  since  it 
is  settled  that  we  shall  not  see  them  for  a  year,  it  would 
be  a  good  time  to  resume  my  project." 

"  Which  project  ?  The  erection  of  the  house  you  wish  to 
have  built  on  that  piece  of  land  which  is  a  part  of  Marie's 
dowry  ?  Don't  do  that,  I  beg  of  you.  We  have  room  enough 
already  for  them  and  their  children,  should  they  have  any. 
And  after  this  long  absence,  it  would  be  a  new  grief  if 
Marie  were  established  apart  from  us,  and  not  to  have  her 
mar  me.  Besides,  her  husband  could  not  remain  three  quar- 
ters of  the  year  in  the  country ;  his  avocations  do  not  permit 
it,  Marie  would,  then,  be  often  left  alone.  What  do  you 
think  she  would  do  in  a  house,  with  her  husband  absent?" 

"She  will  do,  my  good  wife,  what  you  have  done  your- 
self when  business  has  called  me,  as  has  often  happened, 
away    from   home;   yet  we,  too,  were    then    young.     She  will 


THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 


busy  herself  with  her  house,  she  will  get  the  habit  of  man- 
aging her  household,  she  will  have  occupation  and  responsi- 
bility ;  therefore,  contented  with  herself,  and  happy  in  what 
she  will  have  created  about  her.  Believe  me,  I  have  seen 
the  tenderest  family  affections  die  out  in  this  common  life 
of  young  married  people  with  their  parents.  The  wife  aspires 
to  be  absolute  mistress  in  her  own  house,  and  this  is  a  true 
and  healthy  sentiment ;  it  should  be  met  and  encouraged. 
The  woman  who  is  wisely  brought  up,  and  has  charge  of  a 
house,  with  its  responsibility,  and  the  independence  which  is 
the  consequence  of  all  responsibility,  knows  better  how  to 
be  happy  than  one  who  is  retained  in  perpetual  tutelage. 
Marie  would  be  very  well  here,  very  happy  to  be  here,  and 
her  husband  would  be  not  less  happy  to  know  that  she  was 
with  us  ;  hut  she  would  not  be  in  her  own  house.  A  young 
girl  is  only  in  her  place  when  she  is  with  her  mother :  a 
wife  is  only  in  her  place  in  her  own  house  ;  and  thus,  even 
when  she  is  with  her  mother,  it  is  on  the  footing  of  a  guest. 
Admitting  —  what  is  difficult  —  that  no  coolness  arises  from 
this  life  in  common,  it  is  at  least  certain  that  there  results 
from  it  a  want  of  interest  in  practical  things,  nonchalance, 
even  weariness  and  all  the  dangers  which  attend  it. 

"  You  have  brought  up  your  daughter  too  well  for  her  not 
to  ardently  desire  to  fulfil  all  her  duties ;  you  have  also 
shown  her  a  too  constant  activity  for  her  not  to  wish,  in 
her  turn,  to  be  active  likewise.     Give  her  the  means  of  doing 


M.   PAUL   HAS  AN  IDEA. 


this.  "Would  you  not  be  happier  to  see  her  keeping-  and  direct- 
ing her  household  well,  receiving  us  cheerfully,  than  to  al- 
ways find  her  here,  tied  to  your  apron-strings,  with  nothing  to 
do;  a  silent  and  respectful  judge  if  you  will,  but  after  only 
a  judge  of  your  ways  of  doing  things  ?  Do  you  think  her 
husband  will  have  as  much  pleasure  in  coming  to  her  here, 
when  his  business  permits,  as  he  would  experience  in  seeing 
her  at  home,  happy  in  showing  him  what  she  has  been  able 
to  do  in  his  absence,  occupied  in  making  their  home  every 
day  more  agreeable  and  cosey  ?  Don't  you  see,  by  reflecting 
a  little,  that  the  young  women  of  these  times,  who,  despite 
of  being  well  born,  have  made  the  saddest  failures,  are  most 
often  those  the  first  years  of  whose  married  life  have  been 
spent  thus,  without  a  hearthstone  of  their  own,  leading  a 
life  which  is  neither  that  of  the  young  girl  nor  of  the 
mistress  of  a  house,  —  the  responsible  housekeeper,  to  call 
things  by  their  right  names  ?  " 

A  few  tears  moistened  Madame  de  Gandelau's  embroidery. 

"  You  are  right  again,  dear,"  said  she,  holding  out  her  hand 
to  her  husband.     "  What  you  do  will  be  well  done." 

Paul,  as  he  fumbled  over  an  illustrated  paper,  did  not  lose 
a  word  of  this  conversation.  The  idea  of  seeing  a  house 
built  for  his  elder  sister  pleased  him  very  much.  Already, 
in  his  young  imagination,  this  future  house,  opposite  the  old 
paternal  mansion,  seemed  to  him  like  a  fairy  palace,  all 
prettily  adorned  and  garnished,  full  of  life  and  gayety. 


3  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

It  must  be  said  that  M.  de  Gandelaus  habitation  had  little 
to  charm  the  eye.  It  had  been  successively  enlarged,  and 
two  long  wings  of  rather  dull  aspect  were  united  awkwardly 
to  the  main  building,  formerly  a  chateau,  whose  two  dis- 
mantled towers,  crowned  by  flat  roofs,  flanked  the  angles. 
Between  the  two  wings  and  this  main  building  there  opened 
a  low  court,  always  humid,  protected  by  an  old  iron  grating, 
and  the  remains  of  a  ditch  used  for  providing  the  kitchen 
with  plants  for  soups.  A  third  wing,  in  prolonging  the  old 
building  to  the  towers,  which  was  built  by  M.  de  Gandelau 
shortly  after  his  marriage,  contained  the  private  apartments 
of  the  proprietors :  this  was  the  gayest  part  of  the  mansion. 
The  drawing-room,  dining-room,  billiard-room,  monsieur's  study, 
were  situated  in  the  old  main  building.  As  for  the  two 
parallel  wings,  they  contained  chambers  opening  upon  irregu- 
lar corridors,  which  necessitated  a  certain  caution  if  one  wished 
to  get  through  them  without  accident. 

The  next  morning  Paul,  as  he  was  going  to  make  inquiries 
as  to  his  pony's  health,  saw  Papa  Branchu  coming  into  the 
court  with  a  small  hand-cart  full  of  pieces  of  wood,  bags  of 
plaster,  and  tools. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  all  that,  Papa  Branchu  ? " 

"I  am  going  to  repair  the  pigeon-house,- Monsieur  Paul." 

"  Ah  !  suppose  I  help  you  ? " 

"  No,  Monsieur  Taul,  you  will  soil  your  clothes ;  you  might 
hurt  yourself;  it  is  not  your  business.  But  you  may  see  us 
work,  if  you  please." 


M.   PAUL   HAS   AN  IDEA. 


"  It  must  be  fun  to  build ! " 

"  As  for  that,  it  's  not  a  pastime ;  but  as  for  its  being  tire- 
some, it 's  not  that  either.  When  a  man  works  for  a  good 
master  like  your  papa,  when  he  gets  his  pay,  and  has  a 
bottle  of  wine  when  it 's  warm,  there  's  no  need  of  grumbling 
against  the  world  :  it  '11  do.  A  man  works  his  day  out, 
and  picks  up  his  tools  without  spite.  You  see,  Monsieur 
Paul,  this  plaster  that's  in  the  cart, —  I  must  pay  the  plas- 
terer ;  and  the  brick,  —  I  must  pay  the  kiln ;  and  so  with 
all.  If  a  man  is  kept  waiting  for  his  crowns,  money  must 
be  cot  somehow,  —  and  a  man  's  in  difficulties.  But  excuse 
my  babble;  my  boy  is  there  waiting  for  me." 

"  Could  you  build  a  big  house,  Papa  Branchu  ? " 

"  Why,  I  could,  all  the  same,  Monsieur  Paul ;  I  built  the 
mayor's,  and  that's  big  enough!" 

Paul  no  longer,  as  the  evening  before,  finds  the  hours  a 
trifle  long  ;  he  has  an  idea.  He  cannot  get  the  house  planned 
for  his  sister  out  of  his  head  ;  he  fancies  it,  sometimes  as 
a  palace,  sometimes  as  a  turreted  manor-house,  sometimes 
as  ;t  cottage  nestling  amid  ivies  and  clematis,  with  many 
carved  balconies.  Paul  has  a  cousin  who  is  an  architect;  he 
has  often  seen  him  working  on  a  smooth  board  :  under  liis 
hands  buildings  arise  as  if  by  enchantment.  This  did  not 
seem  very  difficult  to  Paul.  The  cousin  lias,  in  the  room 
which  he  occupies  when  hi'  comes  to  the  chateau,  all  the 
implements    necessary  to   him.     Paul  is   going   to   try  to   put 


10  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

one  of  the  plans  which  occur  to  him  on  paper.  But  a  first 
obstacle  presents  itself.  He  must  know  what  will  be  the 
proper  thing  for  his  sister.  Shall  it  be  a  lordly  mansion  with 
towers  and  battlements,  a  cottage,  or  an  Italian  villa?  If  a 
surprise  is  to  be  arranged,  it  should  at  least  be  one  that  will 
be  agreeable  to  her.  After  a  full  hour  of  reflection,  Paul 
thinks,  not  without  reason,  that  he  must  go  and  find  his 
father. 

"  There,  there,  you  are  in  a  great  hurry,"  says  the  father, 
at  Paul's  first  words.  "Eh,  the  affair  has  not  got  so  far  as 
that.  You  want  to  make  the  plan  of  a  house  for  Marie ; 
very  well,  try  it.  But  before  all,  it  is  well  to  know  what 
your  sister  needs,  how  she  desires  that  her  house  should  be 
arranged.  I  have  no  objection  to  hastening  matters  a  little. 
AVe  will  send  her  a  despatch." 

Telegram. 

From  X .     To  Baveno,  Italy.     Madame  N ,  Hotel  cle  . 

Paul  wishes  to  build  house  here  for  Marie.     Send  programme. 

De  Gaxdelau. 

Twenty  hours  after  the  following  reply  was  received :  — 

From  Baveno.     To  X .     M.  de  Gaxdelau. 

Arrived  this  morning.  All  well.  Paul  has  excellent  idea.  On 
ground-floor,  vestibule,  drawing-room,  dining-room,  office,  kitchen 
not  underground,  billiard-room,  study.  First  floor,  two  large 
chambers,  two  toilet  cabinets,  baths ;  small .  chamber,  toilet-closet ; 
laundry,  wardrobes ;  chambers  plenty  of  cupboards  ;  staircase  safe 
from  neck-breaking.  Marie  X . 


M.   PAUL   HAS   AN  IDEA.  IT 

"Without  for  a  moment  doubting  that  his  sister  has  re- 
ceived and  answered  his  message  in  good  earnest,  Paul  sets 
resolutely  to  work,  and,  installing  himself  in  his  cousin's  room, 
he  attempts,  by  recalling  all  his  knowledge  of  lineal  design- 
ing, to  realize  the  plan  sent  by  Marie,  on  paper.  The  task 
presents  difficulties  so  serious,  that  Paul  has  to  be  informed 
twice  that  breakfast  is  waiting.  The  afternoon  passes  swiftly 
away,  and  at  dinner-time  Paul  comes  down  to  the  drawing- 
room  with  a  large  sheet  of  paper  well  covered  with  plans 
and  facades. 

"Why,  this  looks  very  fine,"  says  M.  de  Gandelau,  unroll- 
ing the  sheet.  "  But  your  cousin  is  coming  to-morrow,  and 
we  11  let  him  criticise  your  project." 

All  night  Paul  was  very  restless.  He  dreamed  of  palaces 
rising  under  his  direction ;  but  there  was  always  something- 
lacking  to  his  edifices.  Here,  windows  were  entirely  want- 
ing ;  there,  the  staircase  was  a  rickety  ladder,  which  his  sis- 
ter Marie  shrank  from  ascending.  Farther  along,  the  ceilings 
were  so  low  that  one  could  not  stand  erect,  whilst  others 
were  so  high  as  to  create  fear.  Papa  Branchu  laughed,  and 
stiired  the  walls  with  his  hands,  to  show  that  they  were  not 
safe.  The  chimneys  smoked  horribly,  and  his  younger  sister 
imperiously  demanded  an  apartment  for  her  doll. 

Paul  looked  over  his  design  as  soon  as  he  was  out  of  bed, 
and  it  seemed  much  less  attractive  than  on  the  evening 
before;  he  blushed  at  the  notion  of  showing  it  to  his  cousin, 


12  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

who  arrived  about  breakfast-time ;  he  hesitated,  and  thought 
of  destroying  this  plan  that  had  caused  him  hard  labor  for  a 
whole  day. 

"Father,  I  think  my  cousin  will  make  fun  of  me,  if  I  show 
him  my  design." 

"My  boy,"  responded  M.  de  Gandelau,  "when  one  has 
done  the  best  that  he  can,  he  must  not  shrink  from  criticism, 
for  that  is  the  only  means  of  ascertaining  what  is  deficient 
in  the  work,  and  consequently  of  acquiring  the  knowledge  we 
lack.  If  you  thought  you  were  going  to  be  an  architect  in 
a  morning,  you  would  be  very  foolish  ;  but  if,  after  making 
an  effort  to  express,  by  a  design  or  otherwise,  an  idea  which 
you  thought  good,  you  hesitated  to  submit  this  expression  to 
one  better  informed  than  yourself,  in  the  fear  of  provoking- 
more  criticisms  than  praises,  that  would  not  be  modesty,  but 
a  sentiment  of  very  ill-placed  pride ;  for  it  would  deprive 
you  of  advice  which,  at  your  age  especially,  could  not  fail 
to  be  valuable." 

On  the  arrival  of  the  cousin,  M.  Gandelau  told  his  son 
to  bring  his  attempt,  so  that  the  amateur  architect  might 
display  the  sheet  of  paper  covered  the  evening  before  with 
the  plan  so  laboriously  worked  out. 

"  Eh,  my  little  cousin,"  said  the  newrcomer,  "  do  you 
want  to  be  an  architect  ?  Take  care !  all  is  not  rose-colored 
in  our  profession,  as  on  your  paper." 

In    a    few    words    the    cousin    was    apprised    of    what    was 


M.   PAUL   HAS   AN  IDEA.  I3 

going  forward.  "  Well,  this  is  very  good ;  there  is  the  draw- 
ing-room, and  the  hall.  I  don't  quite  understand  the  .stair- 
case:  lmt  that's  a  detail.  And  the  facades  ?  Why,  this 
is  a  palace!  Columns,  and  balustrades!  There's  nothing 
more  to  do  than  to  put  hands  to  the  work ! " 

"  True,  cousin ;  suppose  we  call  Papa  Branchu ;  he  is  at 
work  close  by  ? " 

"Softly,  this  is  nothing  hut  a  sketch.  And  how  about  the 
definite  plans,  the  estimates,  the  details  of  execution  ?  We 
must  proceed  with  order.  You  must  know,  Paul,  that  the 
more  anxious  one  is  to  build  quickly,  the  more  useful  it  is 
to  decide  upon  every  small  detail  beforehand.  Call  to  mind 
the  weariness  of  your  cousin,  Count  de  ,  who  has  re- 
sumed building  his  chateau  every  spring  for  six  years,  with- 
out having  been  able  to  finish  it;  because  he  did  not,  in 
the  first  place,  set  down  all  that  he  wished  to  do,  and  his 
architect  lias  not  ventured  to  adopt,  once  for  all,  a  well- 
digested  plan.  He  lias  lent  himself  to  all  sorts  of  caprices, 
or  rather  to  all  the  officious  pieces  of  advice  which  his 
friends  have  tendered,  —  one  about  the  size  of  the  rooms, 
another  about  the  position  of  the  staircase,  and  a  third  about 
the  style  and  decoration.  We  have  only  a  year  before  us, 
and  so  we  must  only  begin  when  we  have  become  sure  of 
not  making  any  false  steps,  since  your  sister  must  approve 
of  what  we  have  done.  Let's  see;  let  us  first  agree  upon 
i lie  system  of  construction  you  desire  to  adopt.      As   we  are 


14 


THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 


pressed  for  time,  we  have  little  choice ;  we  cannot  think  of 
rearing  a  mansion  of  cut  stone  from  top  to  bottom ;  that 
would  be  too  long  and  too  expensive.  We  must  decide 
upon  a  construction  at  once  simple  and  capable  of  rapid 
execution.  Does  that  coincide  with  your  idea  ?  You  have 
put  columns  to  your  frontage ;  why  do  so  ?  If  they  form  a 
portico,  it  will  make  the  rooms  dark  and  gloomy;  if  they 
are  retained,  they  will  serve  no  purpose  here.  And  what  is 
the  use  of  this  balustrade,  placed  on  the  upper  cornices  ? 
Do  you  think  your  sister  is  going  to  promenade  in  the  gut- 
ters ?  It  is  very  convenient  for  the  cats.  And  tell  me  ;  I 
see  that,  on  this  plan,  you  must  pass  from  the  hall  into  the 
drawing-room  through  the  dining-room.  But  if  visitors  come 
while  you  are  at  the  table,  you  will  have  to  beg  them  either 
to  wait  at  the  door,  or  to  see  the  family  taking  dinner.  Good ! 
The  kitchen  opens  on  the  billiard-room.  Well,  we  must 
study  this  more  closely ;  shall  we  set  about  it  ?  The  work 
will  get  on  faster  with  the  two  of  us,  and  you  will  give  me 
some  good  ideas,  for  you  know  your  sister's  tastes  and  habits 
better  than  I  do.  You  can  also  fill  out  the  telegraphic 
brevity  of  the  programme  afforded  to  us.  Think  it  over, 
and  early  to-morrow  morning  we  will  proceed  to  the  project 
in  good  earnest." 


PAUL'S  IDEA   IS  DEVELOPED.  1 5 


CHAPTER  II 

Paul's  idea  js  developed,  with  a  little  assistance. 

yffc^^f  AELY  the  next  morning  Paul  went  to  his  cous- 
:  Li  pi  in's  room.  Everything  was  ready ;  board,  T, 
'J^^ClL  squares,  compasses,  and  pencils. 

"  Sit  there,  little  cousin ;  you  are  going  to  express  the 
result  of  our  consultation  on  paper,  as  you  know  so  well 
how  to  use  our  tools.  Let  us  go  on  methodically.  First, 
you  doubtless  know  the  spot  where  your  father  proposes  to 
build  the  country-house  for  your  sister  ? " 

"  Yes ;  it  is  below,  beyond  the  wood,  about  three  thou- 
sand yards  from  here ;  in  the  little  valley  at  the  bottom  of 
which  runs  the  stream  which  turns  Michaud's  mill." 

"  Show  me  where  it  is  on  the  plan  of  the  estate.  0,  here 
it  is!" 

"  You  see,  cousin,  it  is  there.  On  the  southern  elevation 
there  are  cultivated  fields  :  then  the  land  descends,  a  little, 
on  the  north,  towards  the  rivulet.  Here  is  a  fine  running 
watercourse,  coming  out  of  the  wood  on  the  west.  On  the 
slope  of  the  plateau,  and  at  the  bottom  of  the  valley,  are 
some  fields  with  a  few  trees." 


1 6  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 


"  On  which  side  is  the  best  view  ?  " 
"  Towards  the  bottom  of  the  valley,  in  the  southeast." 
"  How  do  we  get  to  that  field  from  here  ? " 
"  By  crossing  the   wood ;   then  you  descend  to  the   bottom 
of  the  valley,  by  this  road  ;   you  go  over  a  bridge,  which  is 
here,  and  then  ascend  obliquely  this  way  by  the  plateau." 

"  Good  ;  then  we  must  put  the  house  nearly  at  the  sum- 
mit of  the  slope  which  faces  the  north,  while  sheltering  it 
from  the  northwest  wind  under  the  neighboring  wood.  The 
entrance  should  face  the  ascending  road ;  but  we  must  dis- 
pose the  principal  rooms  of  the  mansion  on  the  most  favor- 
able side  for  exposure,  which  is  that  of  the  southeast ;  be- 
sides, we  ought  to  profit  by  the  open  view  on  the  same 
side,  and  not  neglect  the  running  watercourse,  which  de- 
scends on  the  right  towards  the  bottom  of  the  valley.  We 
are  going  then  to  place  the  house  on  the  spot  which  nature 
has  arranged  so  favorably  for  us,  some  yards  below  the 
plateau.  We  shall  thus  be  tolerably  sheltered  from  the 
southwest  wind,  and  we  shall  not  have  in  front  the  plain, 
which  is  pretty  dreary,  and  extends  beyond  the  view.  Thjs 
decided  on,  let  us  see  your  sister's  programme.  She  does 
not  indicate  the  size  of  any  of  the  rooms  ;  we  must  consider 
this  for  ourselves.  From  what  your  father  tells  me,  he  in- 
tends this  house  as  a  permanent  residence ;  that  is,  to  be 
lived  in  summer  and  winter,  and  to  contain,  therefore,  all 
that  is  necessary   to  a  great  landed  proprietor.     He  proposes 


PACTS  IDEA   IS  DEVELOPED.  1/ 

to  devote  two  hundred  thousand  francs  to  its  construction  ; 
it  is  a  matter,  then,  to  be  seriously  studied,  as  your  sister 
and  her  husband  wish  to  be  comfortable.  I  have  visited 
them  in  Paris,  and  I  found  their  house  admirably  arranged ; 
but  there  was  nothing  indicating  a  love  of  mere  display. 
We  can,  then,  start  out  from  these  data.  Let  us  begin  with 
the  plan  of  the  ground-floor.  The  principal  room  is  the 
drawing-room,  the  place  where  the  family  assembles  together. 
We  can  scarcely  allow  it  less  than  five  metres*  in  width  by 
from  seven  to  eight  metres  in  length.  Draw  first  a  paral- 
lelogram representing  these  dimensions.  Ah  no,  not  that 
way,  you  are  too  fast !     Take  a  scale." 

At  this  word,  Paul  looked  inquiringly  at  his  preceptor. 

"  I  forgot.  You  don't  know,  perhaps,  what  is  meant  by 
a  scale  ?  I  notice,  indeed,  that  your  plan  has  not  taken 
such  a  thing  into  account.  Listen  to  me.  When  you  wish 
to  erect  a  house,  or  any  other  building,  you  give  the  archi- 
tect a  programme,  that  is,  a  complete  list  of  all  the  neces- 
sary rooms  and  offices.  That  is  not  all  :  you  say,  such 
a  room  must  be  such  a  width  bv  such  a  length,  with  such 
a  surface,  in  order  to  contain  so  many  persons.  If,  for  in- 
stance, you  are  referring  to  a  dining-room,  you  say  that  it 
must  accommodate  ten,  fifteen,  twenty,  twenty-five  people;  if 

*  The  French  metre  is  a  little  over  one  yard  and  three  inches.  With  tins 
knowledge,  the  reader  may,  if  lie  chooses,  calcutate  the  dimensions  stated  in 
the  text  in   English  measurements.  —  Trs. 


1 8  THE   STORY   OF  A   HOUSE. 

to  a  bedchamber,  that  besides  the  space  for  the  bed,  it  must 
hold  such  and  such  pieces  of  furniture,  or  occupy  a  space 
of  30  or  36  metres,  etc.  Now  you  know  that  a  surface  of 
36  metres  is  given  by  a  square  of  6  metres  a  side,  or  by  a 
parallelogram  of  7  metres  by  5.15  nearly,  or  of  9  metres 
by  4.  But  in  the  latter  case  the  room  would  not  have 
dimensions  convenient  for  a  chamber,  but  rather  those  of 
a  gallery.  Then,  independently  of  the  space  necessary  for  a 
room,  you  must  have,  between  its  breadth  and  its  length, 
certain  relations  indicated  by  the  purpose  for  which  the 
room  is  intended.  A  square  drawing-room  or  chamber  is 
well  enough ;  but  a  dining-room,  which  is  to  afford  room 
for  ten  or  twelve  persons  at  table,  must  be  longer  than  it  is 
wide,  since  the  table  is  extended  in  length  according  to  the 
number  of  the  guests,  but  not  in  width.  You  must  there- 
fore put  stretching  space  in  the  dining-room,  as  you  do  leaves 
in  the  table.     Do  you  understand  ? 

"  Well,  then  the  architect,  in  order  to  draw  up  his  plan, 
though  it  be  only  an  outline,  adopts  a  scale;  that  is,  he 
divides  a  line,  on  his  paper,  into  a  number  of  equal  parts, 
each  representing  a  metre.  To  economize  time  or  simplify 
the  work,  he  takes,  for  each  of  these  divisions,  the  two 
hundredth  or  the  one-hundredth  or  the  fiftieth  of  a  metre. 
In  the  first  case  he  says,  scale  of  five  millimetres*  or  of  a 
half-centimetre  f  per  metre,    or  scale    of  one  two-hundredth ; 

*  A  millimetre  is  the  0.003937  of  an  inch, 
t  A  centimetre  is  100th  of  a  metre. 


PAULS  IDEA   IS  DEVELOPED.  1 9 

in  the  second  case  he  says,  scale  of  one  centimetre  per 
metre,  or  scale  of  one  one-hundredth ;  and  in  the  third,  scale 
of  two  centimetres  per  metre,  or  scale  of  one  fiftieth.  Thus 
you  draw  up  a  plan  two  hundred,  one  hundred,  or  fifty 
times  smaller  than  what  is  really  to  he  executed.  It  is 
needless  to  add,  that  you  can  make  proportional  scales  to 
infinity ;  of  one,  two,  or  three  millimetres  per  metre  as  per 
10  metres,  per  100  metres,  or  per  1,000  metres,  which  is 
done  when  they  prepare  maps.  Just  so  the  details  are  set 
down  on  the  scale  of  50  centimetres  per  metre,  or  one  half 
the  size  of  that  which  is  to  be  constructed ;  of  20  centi- 
metres per  metre,  or  one  fifth  of  the  real  space;  and  so  on. 
The  scale  adopted,  the  architect  thus  gives  to  each  part  of 
the  plan  dimensions  which  are  relatively  exact.  If  he  has 
taken  the  scale  of  one  centimetre  per  metre  and  wishes  to 
indicate  a  door  of  1.30  metres  in  width,  he  takes  0.013 
metres. 

"  Do  you  quite  comprehend  me  ?  I  am  not  sure  of  it ;  but 
practice  will  make  you  familiar  with  it  in  a  few  hours.  In 
order  to  show  you  how  useful  the  scale  is,  I  will  take  your 
plan.  Your  drawing-room  is  a  parallelogram.  Let  us  sup- 
pose that  it  is  six  metres  by  eight,  which  is  nearly  the  relative 
proportion  of  the  two  sides.  An  eighth  of  the  long  side, 
taken  by  the  compass,  is  a  metre.  I  carry  this  measurement 
to  your  frontage,  and  find  that  your  ground-floor  is  nine  metres 
high.      Just  imagine  what,  not  only  your  drawing-room,   but 


20  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

your  hall  would  be ;  the  hall  is  scarcely  four  metres  long,  and 
yet  it  is  nine  metres  between  floor  and  ceiling  !  That  would 
be  a  well.  The  height  is  not,  you  see,  in  accord  with  the 
scale  of  your  plan.  Take,  for  your  sister's  drawing-room, 
twenty-eight  millimetres  on  this  graduated  rule,  which  will 
give  five  metres  sixty  centimetres,  on  the  scale  of  five  milli- 
metres per  metre.  Very  well ;  that  is  the  shorter  side  of 
the  drawing-room.  Now  take  forty-one  millimetres  on  the 
same  rule,  which  will  give  eight  metres  twenty  centimetres ; 
that  will  be  the  long  side.  Your  parallelogram  is  now 
traced  in  perfectly  exact  relative  dimensions.  You  are  going 
to  surround  this  room  with  walls ;  walls  are  necessary  to 
receive  the  joists ;  and  a  wall  through  which  chimneys  must 
pass  should  not  be  less  than  half  a  metre,  or  fifty  centi- 
metres, thick.  Your  drawing-room  will  thus  stand  upright 
by  itself.  After  the  drawing-room  comes,  in  importance,  the 
dining-room.  Where  shall  we  locate  it  ?  In  the  country- 
house,  you  must  enter  it  directly  from  the  drawing-room. 
Shall  it  be  on  the  right  or  on  the  left  ?  Neither  you  nor  I 
can  tell ;  but  chance  must  not  decide  the  question.  Let 's 
reason  a  little.  It  is  very  easy  to  put  the  kitchen  next  to 
the  dining-room ;  but  the  kitchen  is  an  inconvenient  apart- 
ment to  have  there.  When  you  are  at  the-  table,  you  don't 
want  to  smell  the  fumes  of  cooking,  nor  hear  the  noises 
made  by  the  cooks.  The  kitchen  ought  to  be  near  the 
dining-room,   and   yet   so  far  off  that  one   would  not  be  re- 


PAUL'S  IDEA    IS  DEVELOPED.  21 

minded  of  its  existence.  Moreover,  the  back-yard,  the  out- 
houses, the  poultry-house,  a  small  kitchen-garden,  wash- 
houses,  and  so  on,  ought  to  he  near  the  kitchen.  It  is 
necessary,  too,  that  the  kitchen  should  not  have  a  southern 
aspect.  We  must  not  forget  that  }rour  sister,  who  proposes 
to  keep  the  house,  had  the  precaution  to  say,  in  her  brief 
programme,  '  kitchen  not  underground ! '  She  was  right. 
Underground  kitchens  are  unhealthy  for  their  occupants,  are 
difficult  to  look  after,  and  spread  their  odors  through  the 
ground-floor.  We  will  place  it,  then,  on  the  same  floor 
with  the  dining-room,  but  not  having  direct  communication 
with  it,  so  as  to  avoid  the  smell  and  the  noise.  Let  us 
examine  the  aspect  and  views  of  our  ground.  The  least 
favorable  aspect  for  the  house,  and  that  which,  in  this  case, 
offers  the  least  agreeable  view,  is  that  of  the  northwest. 
We  will  put  the  drawing-room,  then,  with  its  exterior  angle 
towards  the  southeast,  and  on  the  right  we  will  have  the 
dining-room;  and  beyond  this  the  kitchen,  which  will  thus 
be  towards  the  north.  Don't  be  in  a  hurry  to  mark  out 
these  latter  apartments,  for  we  must  know  what  relations 
they  should  have  with  the  drawing-room  ami  the  hall.  A 
billiard-room  is  asked  for.  It  must  be,  with  the  dining- 
room,  situated  towards  the  southeast.  Then  we  must  have 
the  hall,  ami  a  study  for  your  brother-in-law  near  the  front 
entrance.  If  we  place  the  dining  and  billiard  rooms,  which 
should  be  about  the  same  size  as  the  drawing-room,  side  by 


22  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

side  with  this  as  to  its  length,  the  drawing-room  will  only 
be  lighted  from  one  of  its  smaller  sides,  for  we  must  put 
the  hall  in  front.  In  that  case  the  drawing-room  would  be 
very  gloomy,  and  afford  a  view  of  the  country  only  on  one 
side.  Then  let  us  mark  out  the  dining  and  billiard  rooms 
perpendicularly  to  the  drawing-room,  while  having  the  latter 
project  in  the  direction  of  the  best  aspect.  Let  us  give  to 
each  of  these  rooms  seven  metres  of  length  and  five  metres 
fifty  centimetres  of  breadth.  These  are  convenient  dimen- 
sions. Then  trace  the  hall  in  front  of  the  drawing-room. 
We  will  determine  the  size  of  the  hall  presently. 

"  Now  let  us  try  to  place  the  walls  of  these  rooms  in  the 
position  demanded  by  the  construction.  We  must  pass  from 
the  drawing-room  into  the  dining  and  billiard  rooms.  The 
opening  from  the  drawing-room  into  the  billiard-room  must 
be  large  enough  for  persons  in  both  to  be,  as  it  were,  to- 
gether, and  to  converse  with  ease.  But  it  is  necessary,  too, 
that  you  should  be  able  to  go  from  the  billiard-room  and 
also  from  the  dining-room  into  the  hall,  without  passing 
through  the  drawing-room.  We  have  already  said  that  there 
must  be  side-views  from  the  drawing-room,  which  is  to 
have  a  length  of  8  m.  20  c.  If  we  take  2  m.  40  c.  for 
the  side-views,  and  then  0.50  c.  for  the  thickness  of  the  wall 
of  the  billiard  or  dining  room,  there  will  remain  5  m.  30  c. 
to  the  entrance  partition  of  the  drawing-room ;  our  bill- 
iard-room   as   well    as    the    dining-room    being  5  m.   50  c.  in 


PAUL'S  IDEA   IS  DEVELOPED.  2$ 

width,  these  rooms  will  extend  0  m.  20  c.  beyond  this  en- 
trance partition.  Never  mind  that.  Let  us  mark  out  the 
second  wall,  always  having-  a  thickness  of  half  a  metre. 
There  are  the  three  principal  rooms  set  down.  In  the  axis 
of  the  billiard-room  we  will  make  an  opening  into  the 
drawing-room,  of  2  m.  GO  c.  On  the  side  of  the  wall  sep- 
arating this  from  the  dining-room  we  will  open  a  door  upon 
the  dining-room  of  1  m.  30  c,  0  in.  20  c.  from  the  parti- 
tion separating  the  drawing-room  from  the  hall.  Thus  we 
shall  enter  the  dining-room,  not  in  the  axis,  but  laterally, 
which  is  more  convenient ;  for  you  know  that  when  people 
go  into  and  come  out  from  dinner,  the  gentlemen  offer  their 
arms  to  the  ladies.  It  is  necessary  that  in  going  in  and  out 
there  should  not  be  any  obstacle  to  obstruct  the  progress  of 
the  couples.  The  door  leading  from  the  drawing-room  into 
the  dining-room,  moreover,  should  not  be  in  the  axis  of  that 
leading  from  the  drawing-room  into  the  billiard-room.  This 
door  should  be  the  counterpart  of  the  window  opening  on 
the  same  side,  and  between  them  we  will  place  the  chim- 
ney. We  will  open  a  central  door  from  the  hall  into  the 
drawing-room. 

"  In  front,  along  the  billiard-room  wall,  we  will  place  your 
brother-in-law's  study,  with  a  small  antechamber  adjoining, 
where  people  who  have  business  witli  him  may  wait,  with- 
out having  to  wander  about  in  the  hall.  At  one  side  of  the 
dining-room   we   will    put    the    butler's    pantry.      The    study 


24  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

must  be  at  least  3.90  metres  wide.     We  will  have  the   hall 
project  a  little  so  as  to  form  a  good  front. 

"A  serious  question  in  regard  to  every  house  is  that  re- 
garding the  staircase.  This  ought  to  be  in  proportion  with 
the  building;  neither  too  wide  nor  too  narrow.  It  must  not 
be  put  in  a  useless  or  inconvenient  place  ;  it  must  give  easy 
access  to  the  upper  stories ;  and  it  must  be  conspicuous.  If 
we  put  a  part  of  the  staircase  in  the  hall,  which  is  very 
large,  —  4  m.  90  c.  by  5  m.  50  a,  —  would  this  be  conspicu- 
ous, and  would  we  gain  any  room  ?  The  steps  of  a  stair- 
case in  a  house  like  this  must  be  at  least  1  m.  30  c.  in 
width.  But  it  is  also  indispensable  that  we  should  be  able 
to  go  directly  from  the  hall  into  the  dining-room,  the  pantry, 
and  all  the  services  placed  on  the  right  of  the  plan.  Let 
us  reserve  a  passage  of  1  m.  30  c,  and  place  a  first  step. 
The  height  of  the  ground-floor,  according  to  the  dimensions 
of  the  rooms,  should  be  4  m.  50  c. ;  this  will  give  a  vacant 
space  of  4  m.  20  c,  reserving  0  m.  30  c.  for  the  thickness 
of  the  first-story  floor.  The  steps  of  an  easy  staircase  should 
be  nearly  15  centimetres  in  height ;  to  ascend  4  m.  50  c, 
therefore,  we  must  have  thirty  steps.  Each  step  should  have 
a  width  of  from  25  to  30  centimetres.  The  staircase  must 
thus  furnish  us  an  expansion  of  7  m.  50  c.  for  steps  of  25  c. 
width,  or  of  9  metres  for  steps  of  30  c,  since  we  count 
upon  thirty  steps.  Let  us  take  a  mean  figure,  —  8  m.  25  c. 
We     must    find     this     expansion     of     8  m.    25  c.    at    least. 


PAULS  IDEA   IS   DEVELOPED.  2$ 

We  will,  then,  establish  a  pavilion  at  the  angle  of  the  hall, 
sufficiently  projecting  that,  in  passing  around  a  newel,* 
which  will  be  in  the  prolongation  of  the  wall  at  the  right 
of  the  drawing-room,  we  shall  reach  the  first  story  by  the 
antechamber  on  that  story.  I  mark  out  this  staircase  for 
you,  and  we  will  return  to  it  anon.  The  first  fifteen  steps 
come  in  the  line  of  the  newel  and  the  wall,  and  enable  us 
to  place  water-closets  below  the  farther  part  of  the  tread, 
for  the  family,  on  the  ground-floor. 

"  On  the  passage  beyond  let  us  locate  the  pantry,  then  the 
circular  servants'  staircase,  then  the  servants'  pantry,  then 
the  kitchen  in  a  wing,  a  bake-house,  and  a  wash-house,  the 
latter  permitting  an  exit  from  the  kitchen  to  the  kitchen- 
garden.  Turning  round,  we  will  place  a  stable  for  three 
horses,  a  carriage-house  for  two  carriages,  a  saddle-room,  and 
a  small  staircase  to  ascend  to  the  rooms  of  the  coachman 
and  groom,  and  to  the  fodder-room  under  the  roof.  At  the 
side  of  the  stable  we  will  reserve  a  direct  descent  to  the 
court  and  larder,  and  will  put  water-closets  for  the  ser- 
vants. We  will  separate  the  stable  and  its  arrangements 
from  the  rest  of  the  house  by  a  wall  with  a  trellis,  at  the 
rig] it  of  the  circular  servants'  staircase  ;  this  will  give  us  a 
court  for  the  kitchen,  the  stable,  and  the  carriage-house.     In 

*  A  newel  is  "  the  upright  post  about  which  are  formed  winding  stairs,  or 
a  cylinder  formed  by  the  end  of  the  steps  of  the  winding  stairs. " — Web- 
ster's Dictionary. 


26  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

front  we  will  reserve  a  space  for  the  poultry-yard,  rubbish- 
hole,  etc. 

"  Now  that  the  plan  of  our  ground-floor  is  marked  out,  let 
us  try  to  improve  it  in  detail. 

"  It  would  be  a  good  thing  to  have,  at  the  end  of  the  draw- 
ing-room looking  upon  the  garden,  an  alcove  or  bay-window. 
Nothing  prevents  our  placing  one  at  the  end  of  the  billiard- 
room,  with  a  divan  where  the  gentlemen  can  smoke,  and  a 
third  at  the  end  of  the  dining-room,  which  would  enable  the 
dishes  to  be  passed  through  from  the  servants'  pantry,  and  a 
side-board  or  table  to  be  placed  there  for  carving.  And  we 
will  utilize  these  additions  on  the  first  floor. 

"  But  you  must  pass  directly  from  the  drawing-room  or  bill- 
iard-room into  the  garden.  I  confess  that  I  am  not  partial 
to  those  outer  flights  of  steps  which  are  so  hot  in  the  sun, 
and  so  disagreeable  when  it  blows  or  rains ;  if,  then,  on  the 
side  of  the  billiard-room,  we  establish  a  green-house  with  an 
interior  staircase,  in  the  angle  which  the  drawing-room  forms 
witli  the  billiard-room,  it  seems  to  me  that  it  would  be  an 
excellent  arrangement.  Thus  you  might  pass  from  the  draw- 
ing or  billiard  room  into  the  green-house,  where  you  might  take 
your  coffee  when  the  weather  was  bad,  and  reach  the  garden 
by  a  covered  way.  A  few  flowers  and  shrubs,  disposed  along 
the  glass  side,  would  add  a  gay  appearance  to  the  billiard- 
room,  without  shutting  out  the  light.  But  we  would  put  a 
real  flight  of  steps  in  front  of  the  hall,  which  we  should  take 


— \£- 


Fig.  2. 


Fig.  i.  —  PLAN    OF   THE   GROUND-FLOOR.  —  Page  27. 
Fig.  2.  —  PLAN    OF   THE   FIRST   STORY.  —  Page  28. 


PAUL'S  IDEA   IS  DEVELOPED.  2J 

care  to  shelter;  and  this  the  position  of  the  staircase  would 
enable  us  to  do. 

"  Now  draw  this  plan,  as  correctly  as  you  can ;  we  will 
examine  it  again  when  we  have  studied  the  first  story,  the 
arrangement  of  which  may  force  us  to  alter  some  of  that  of 
the  ground-floor.     (Fig.  1.)* 

"  So  far  so  good.  Let  us  first  mark  where  the  staircase  ends. 
The  last  of  the  thirty  steps  which  we  need  is  in  a  line  with 
the  wall  on  the  right  of  the  hall ;  the  top  stair  brings  us  to 
the  antechamber  situated  over  the  hall.  Over  the  drawing- 
room  we  will  put  the  chamber  of  the  mistress  of  the  house ; 
but  as  this  chamber  would  be  too  large,  we  will  profit  by  the 
superfluous  space  to  put  up  a  second  partition,  which  will 
have  doors  on  both  sides  and  give  room  for  closets,  of  which 
ladies  never  have  too  many.  To  afford  light  for  this  space 
we  will  make  the  upper  portion  of  the  partition,  which  shuts 
out  the  antechamber,  of  glass.  There  being  two  doors, 
madame  will  be  more  retired  in  her  chamber,  and  shut  out 
from  the  noise  of  those  going  and  coming.  Besides,  this 
second  private  antechamber  will  enable  us  to  establish  a  direct 
communication  with  monsieur's  apartment,  which  we  will  put 

*  A,  hall  ;  B,  drawing-room  ;  C,  dining-room  ;  D,  billiard-room  ;  E,  mon- 
sieur's study;  F,  green -house ;  G,  pantry;  H,  kitchen;  /,  servants'  pantry; 
K,  L,  bake-house,  wash-house;  M,  servants'  court;  N,  S,  poultry-yard;  0, 
stable;  P,  carriage-house;  R,  saddle-room;  a,  servants'  staircase;  /■.  descent 
to  cellar;  c,  groom's  staircase  ;   V,   IV,  water-closets. 


28  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

on   the  side   having   the  best  aspect  ;    that  is,  over   the  bill- 
iard-room. 

"  As  this  space  is  also  too  ample,  we  will  use  the  surplus 
for  a  toilet-boudoir  and  bath  for  madame  ;  and  we  will  enter 
monsieur's  chamber  directly  from  the  antechamber,  by  a  pri- 
vate passage,  which  will  also  open  upon  madame's  boudoir, 
upon  monsieur's  toilet-room,  placed  over  his  study,  upon  the 
bedchamber,  and  upon  the  two  water-closets  provided  for 
these  two  rooms.  Thus,  by  closing  the  two  doors  leading  to 
the  antechamber,  the  master  and  mistress  of  the  house  will 
be  completely  secluded.  Eepeating  the  corridor  of  the  ground- 
floor  on  the  right,  we  shall  establish  a  communication  between 
the  antechamber  and  the  servants'  staircase,  the  laundry  (an 
important  matter),  which  we  will  locate  above  the  kitchen, 
a  large  wardrobe  for  madame  on  the  right  of  her  chamber, 
and  a  nursery  (for  we  must  foresee  everything),  which,  as 
well  as  the  wardrobe,  will  be  put  over  the  dining-room.  The 
ground-floor  alcove,  carried  up,  will  make  an  excellent  toilet- 
cabinet  for  the  children's  or  spare  chamber  on  the  first  floor, 
and  that  of  the  billiard-room  will  make  a  very  agreeable 
addition  to  monsieur's  room.  As  for  that  of  the  drawing- 
room,  we  will  cover  it  with  a  terrace,  which  will  give  madame's 
chamber  a  fine  balcony,  where  an  awning  and  flowers  can  be 
placed  in  summer.     (Fig.  2.)* 

*  A,  antechamber ;  B,  madame's  room  ;  C,  toilet-boudoir  and  bath ;  D, 
wardrobe  ;  E,  monsieur's  room  ;  F,  toilet-room  and  bath  ;  G,  room  ;  H,  toilet- 
room  ;  7,  laundry  ;  P,  rubbish-room  ;    W,  water-closets. 


PAUL'S  IDEA    IS  DEVELOPED.  29 

"You  see,  little  cousin,  that  our  plan  begins  to  assume 
order.  It  will  soon  be  breakfast-time ;  let  us  take  a  short 
stroll,  and  this  afternoon  we  will  resume  our  work ;  that  is, 
proceed  to  consider  the  elevations." 

As  Paul  descended  to  the  garden  he  examined  the  paternal 
mansion  with  a  new  interest.  It  had  never  before  occurred 
to  him  to  observe  the  construction  of  the  house.  He  com- 
puted the  space  wasted  by  the  endless  passages ;  he  saw,  here 
and  there,  dark  places  which  led  nowhere.  The  staircase 
opened  badly ;  one  must  know  the  house  well  to  find  it  on 
the  ground-floor.  The  kitchen  was  far  away  from  the  dining- 
room,  and  it  was  necessary  to  cross  a  carriage-way,  go  down 
two  steps,  and  up  six,  to  reach  one  from  the  other.  This,  for 
the  first  time  in  his  life,  seemed  barbarous.  As  he  strolled 
along,  waiting  for  the  tinkle  of  the  breakfast-bell,  he  asked 
himself  if  his  father  would  not  do  well  to  demolish  his  old 
manor-house,  and  build  a  new  one  on  a  fresh  plan,  matured 
by  himself  aided  by  the  advice  of  his  cousin.  He  calculated 
one  by  one  all  the  faults  in  the  arrangement  of  the  paternal 
mansion,  its  too  numerous  snares  for  breaking  necks. 

He  saw  the  gloomy  drawing-room,  flanked  on  two  sides  by 
two  old  towers,- which  intercepted  the  side-views;  his  father's 
little  study,  lighted  by  a  narrow  window,  and  preceded  by 
a  large  apartment  which  was  unused,  and  served  as  a  fruit- 
room  in  the  autumn ;  and  many  other  faults. 

"  Well,   my  lad,"  said   his  father,  when  they  had  sat  down 


30  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

at    table,   "  it   seems    you    have   already   been   at    work   this 
morning." 

Paul,  all  absorbed  in  his  subject,  gave  a  tolerably  accurate 
description  of  the  plan  they  had  developed,  but  could  not 
resist  some  critical  remarks  on  the  subject  of  the  paternal 
mansion. 


THE    TREE   OF  SCIENCE.  3 1 


CHAPTER    III 


THE   TREE   OF   SCIENCE. 


{tp^^^^jfIS  mother  looked  at   him  with   astonishment.     As 
If   for   his    father,   he   became   grave,   and   spoke   as 
J 5   follows:  — 

"  Paul,  this  house  pleases  your  mother,  and  such  as  it  is,  it 
pleases  me  also.  You  and  your  sisters  were  born  in  it.  I 
inherited  it  from  my  father,  and  I  have  made  only  such 
additions  to  it  as  were  necessary.  There  is  not  a  corner  of 
this  house  which  does  not  recall  to  me  some  memory  of 
happiness  or  sadness ;  it  is  consecrated  by  the  work  of  three 
honorable  generations.  All  the  people  of  the  country  round- 
about, who  call  it  the  "  chateau,"  know  that  they  find  here 
bread  when  they  are  in  want  of  it,  clothing  for  their  chil- 
dren, advice  in  their  differences,  and  aid  when  they  are  ill. 
They  have  no  need  to  be  told  where  the  staircase  is,  which 
leads  to  your  mother's  room,  or  to  my  study  ;  for  they  know 
it  as  well  as  we  do,  and  they  know  as  well  as  we  where  to 
find  those  neck-breaking  places  to  which  you  refer,  and  do 
not  lose  themselves  in  the  long  passages.  It'  the  kitchen 
is  at  some  distance  from  the  dining-room,  it  is  large  enough 


32  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

to  hold  the  harvesters  when  they  repair  hither  for  their  sup- 
per, and  the  shepherds  when  they  come  to  settle  their 
accounts.  I  don't  think  I  have  the  right  to  change  all  this, 
for  this  house  is  everybody's  house  here ;  and  you  ought  not 
to  forget,  any  more  than  I,  that  in  1793  my  grandfather 
remained  here  alone  with  his  wife  and  my  father,  without 
fear  of  injury,  whilst  all  the  neighboring  chateaux  were 
abandoned  and  pillaged. 

"  When  we  shall  have  departed  this  world,  your  mother 
and  I,  you  will  do  what  you  will  with  this  old  house  ;  but 
if  I  have  any  advice  to  give  you,  keep  it  as  it  is,  for  it  is 
good  to  stand  longer  than  your  time  and  that  of  your  chil- 
dren. Keep  it,  for  you  would  have  to  commit  many  faults 
to  make  it  no  longer  a  protection  for  our  family. 

"  I  know  as  well,  and  probably  better  than  you,  all  that  is 
wanting  to  make  it  a  residence  in  unison  with  the  taste  of 
the  times ;  and  should  I  sell  it  to  some  rich  proprietor,  no 
doubt  he  would  hasten  to  demolish  it  and  erect  a  more 
comfortable  house,  or  chateau,  which  would  be  more  proper 
to  modern  customs.  But  what  he  might  do  I  could  not,  and 
ought  not. 

"These  worthy  folks  who  come  here  to  talk  with  me,  having 
wooden  shoes  on  their  feet  and  rough  cloaks  to  their  backs, 
and  who  would,  if  need  be,  protect  my  old  house  (they  have 
proved  it  to  me),  would  not  come  to  a  new  house,  which 
they  failed  to  recognize,  and  where  everything  would  frighten 


THE    TREE   OF  SCIENCE.  33 

and  confuse  them.  I  should  gradually  cease  to  see  them ; 
and,  while  it  seems  to  me  quite  natural  to  see  them,  at  any  time 
of  day,  in  this  ancient  habitation,  which  is  simple  and  a  trifle 
awkward,  like  themselves,  it  would  probably  appear  strange 
to  introduce  them  into  apartments  arranged  and  decorated 
according  to  the  fashion  of  the  time. 

"  What  has  become  familiar  to  the  eyes  must  not  be  dis- 
regarded ;  the  country  people  unite  in  their  thoughts  the 
proprietor  and  his  house ;  change  the  latter,  and  they  would 
no  longer  recognize  the  former. 

"  Your  cousin  knows,  better  than  you  and  I  do,  what  the  faults 
of  an  old  manor-house  are,  and  how  it  might  be  made  much 
more  attractive ;  yet  he  never  has  suggested  to  me  that  changes 
might  be  made,  for  he  understands  as  well  as  I  that  in 
changing  something  in  these  buildings,  a  derangement  of 
settled  habits  around  us  would  ensue,  which  could  not  be 
otherwise  than  to  be  regretted. 

"Here  you  are,  an  architect  of  two  or  three  hours'  stand- 
ing; and  before  knowing  whether  or  not  you  could  improve 
that  which  exists,  you  think  of  demolishing. 

"  You  must  be  more  modest ;  when  you  have  studied  long 
and  seen  much,  you  will  find  that  the  dwelling  ought  to  be, 
for  a  man  or  his  family,  a  garment  made  to  his  measure  : 
and  that  when  a  dwelling  is  in  perfect  accordance  with  the 
manners  and  habits  of  those  who  are  sheltered  beneath  its 
roof,   it   is   excellent.      How   many   proprietors    have    I   seen 


34  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 


who,  in  destroying  the  house  left  them  by  their  fathers,  to 
replace  it  by  a  habitation  conforming,  as  they  thought,  with 
the  exigencies  of  the  moment,  at  the  same  time  broke  the 
bond  which  attached  their  family  to  the  humble  dwellers  of 
the  neighborhood ! " 

Paul  had  no  other  response  to  these  arguments  than  to 
embrace  his  father  and  mother ;  and  it  was  the  best  thing 
he  had  to  do. 

"  I  don't  quite  understand,"  said  he  to  his  cousin,  when 
they  had  gone  out  into  the  park  after  breakfast,  "why  my 
father  wishes  to  build  a  house  for  my  sister,  since  he  finds 
it  so  necessary  to  preserve  the  old  house  where  we  were 
born,  for  her  and  for  us." 

"  It  is  a  delicate  subject,  but  you  are  of  an  age,  little 
cousin,  to  comprehend  it.  First  of  all,  your  sister  Marie 
bears  now  another  name  than  yours ;  well,  a  known  and 
respected  name  is,  for  the  neigborhood,  like  the  old  mansion 
to  which  it  is,  so  to  speak,  attached.  If  you  were  not 
born,  and  your  father  and  mother  were  no  longer  living, 
your  sister,  on  returning  to  live  on  this  estate  with  her 
husband,  might  with  impunity  tear  down  the  old  house 
and  erect  a  new  one ;  for  it  would  not  be  more  difficult  to 
persuade  the  neighborhood  to  accept  this  new  house  than 
the  name  of  the  new  proprietor.  She  would  create  new 
bonds  with  this  little  world  which  surrounds  you,  and  con- 
sequently  establish    other    relations,   probably,   between    this 


THE    TREE   OF  SCIENCE. 


35 


little  world  and  her  new  family,  than  those  which  now 
exist  between  your  father  and  his  liumhle  neighbors.  The 
relations  between  your  father  and  the  peasants  in  the 
midst  of  whom  he  has  always  lived  are  the  result  of  tra- 
ditions transmitted  without  interruption  through  several  gen- 
erations. He  could  therefore  obtain  from  them  services, 
and  inspire  them  with  a  confidence,  which  would  not  be 
accorded  to  new-comers  with  a  name  other  than  his.  So, 
also,  these  countryfolk  accept  benefits  without  distrust, 
which  they  know,  from  a  long  experience,  to  be  disinter- 
ested. Were  the  old  manor  to  be  occupied  by  a  stranger, 
with  a  new  name,  it  would  lose  the  prestige  so  justly  valued 
by  your  father ;  then  there  would  be  no  advantage  in  pre- 
serving its  special  aspect  and  arrangement. 

"  M.  de  Gandelau,  who  does  nothing  hastily,  has  quite 
understood  that  some  clay  or  other,  and  by  the  force  of  cir- 
cumstances, his  house  might  not  be  convenient  for  his  chil- 
dren, and,  before  letting  it  disappear,  he  erects  a  new  one 
for  your  sister,  —  a  mansion  which  will  gradually  become 
familiar  to  the  neighborhood,  and  form  a  fresh  nucleus  ;  for 
Madame  Marie  knows  the  art  of  making  herself  beloved, 
and  is  known  by  every  one  hereal  touts  for  her  lovely  qual- 
ities. People  will  become  accustomed  to  the  habits  of  the 
new  household,  and  nobody  will  then  find  it  strange  if  the 
old  house  is  altered  or  torn  down.  Your  father  is  preparing 
a   transition  from   customs    which    are  passing  away,   even   in 


36  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

the  country,  —  which,  however,  still  exist,  —  to  the  cus- 
toms which  are  to  replace  them.  You  see,  then,  that  if  he 
clings  to  the  past,  and  tries  to  preserve  its  best  relics,  he 
does  not  believe  in  its  perpetuity,  and  foresees  the  time 
when  it  will  forcibly  disappear,  in  presence  of  the  habits 
and  necessities  of  the  new  epoch.  As  natural  as  your 
father's  ways  seem  to  be,  because  they  are  the  results  of 
habits  transmitted  continuously  through  several  generations, 
so  difficult  would  it  be  for  a  new-comer  to  conform  to 
those  habits.  Besides,  this  domain,  which  M.  de  Gandelau 
has  understood  so  well  how  to  use,  and  to  make  more  valu- 
able, will  be  of  necessity  divided  among  his  three  children 
when  he  dies.  He  has  already  set  apart  the  portion 
intended  as  your  sister's  dowry.  Well,  he  intends  that  this 
part  shall,  from  this  time,  be  put  in  harmony,  by  means  of 
the  house  that  we  are  going  to  build,  with  the  habits  of 
the  new  proprietors,  who  are  young,  and  have  ways  which 
are  necessarily  different  from  those  of  your  father.  Later 
on,  you  will  be  able  to  appreciate  all  these  things.  Come, 
let  us  get  to  work." 

Paul  tried  to  make  the  serious  ideas  of  his  cousin  clear 
to  his  mind.  He  recalled  the  conversation  he  had  recently 
heard  between  his  father  and  mother,  and  ideas  wholly  new 
to  him  evidently  absorbed  his  thoughts.  However  that  was, 
the  old  mansion  now  assumed  to  him  a  venerable  aspect, 
and  his  thoughts  recrardin^  it  wandered  wide  of  finding 
fault  with  its  bad  arrangement  and  its  awkward  exterior. 


PAUL'S  IDEAS  ABOUT  ART.  37 


CHAPTER   IV. 

PAUL'S   IDEAS    ABOUT   ART,   AND    HOW   THEY   WERE   MODIFIED. 

^^  EFORE  resuming  your  pencil,"  said  the  cousin, 
"  you  must  know  what  you  wish  to  do.  We 
1  have  marked  out  a  sketch  of  our  plans.  We 
know  that  they  can  be  put  in  practice,  and  that  the  con- 
struction will  not  present  any  difficulties ;  that  the  walls 
separating  the  rooms  on  the  two  floors  are  upright,  the  one 
above  the  other ;  that  the  capacities  of  the  floors  are  rea- 
sonable, and  that  the  openings  are  in  convenient  places. 
That 's  very  well.  Now,  do  you  see  these  plans  elevated, 
as  they  would  be  when  actually  built  ?  That  is,  do  you 
see  the  house  erect,  with  its  floors,  roof,  and  so  on  ? " 

"  Well,  —  no." 

"  Good !  You  must,  first  of  all,  represent  this  house  to 
yourself  as  if  it  really  existed.  I  know  that  this  is  scarcely 
possible,  for  many  architects  are  no  further  advanced  than 
you  when  they  have  traced  horizontal  plans  on  paper ; 
and,  in  tracing  these  plans,  do  not  see  their  buildings 
being  erected  in  their  fancy.  Think  a  little  ;  examine 
these    figures  carefully,  and  try  in   your  mind  to   give  them 


$8  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

■ 

some  appearance  in  elevation,  before  taking  up   your  pencil. 

Take  plenty  of  time.  1  have  a  letter  to  write,  and  some 
accounts  to  put  in  order ;  while  I  am  doing  so,  try  to  give 
me  the  elevation  of  one  of  the  sides  of  the  house,  —  the 
front  face,  for  instance,  on  the  northern  side,  —  and  we  will 
discuss  the  result.  I  only  recommend  one  thing  to  you,  — 
to  put  nothing  on  paper  without  having  first  reflected  on 
the  convenience  and  utility  of  what  you  propose  to  design. 
Come,  have  courage,  and  don't  furget  the  scale  of  propor- 
tions ! " 

Paul  was  much  embarrassed,  and  found  the  task  a  very 
hard  one.  His  ideas,  which  had  come  to  him  plentifully 
enough  at  first,  now  seemed  to  desert  him.  Still,  after  a 
laborious  hour  and  a  half,  he  handed  his  cousin  an  outline. 

"  That  might  be  worse,"  said  the  cousin.  "  You  have 
given  a  height  of  4  m.  50  c.  to  the  ground-floor  between 
floor  and  ceiling,  and  that  is  what  we  decided  to  do ;  but 
why  -do  you  give  the  same  height  to  the  first  floor  ?  The 
rooms  are  smaller,  and  there  is  better  ventilation ;  therefore 
it  is  not  necessary  to  give  the  first  floor  so  great  a  height, 
and  four  metres  will  amply  suffice.  But  why  round  win- 
dows on  the  ground-floor  ?  Round  windows  are  difficult  to 
supply  with  sashes,  and  are  awkward  to  fit  with  fastenings, 
shutters,  or  blinds.  Good !  Your  windows  on  the  main 
staircase  are  not  out  of  range,  and  would  be  cut  off  in  the 
middle    by   the    steps,    which    would    obstruct    their    being 


PAUL'S  IDEAS  ABOUT  ART.  39 

opened,  and  render  the  panes  liable  to  be  broken  by  a 
stroke  of  the  foot.  Then  your  staircase-frame  does  not  rise 
above  the  cornice,  and  would  not  permit  access  to  the  floor 
under  the  roof. 

"  It  is  the  same  in  regard  to  the  servants'  staircase.  Your 
roofs  are  made  with  two  slopes.  That  is  scarcely  worth 
while  in  a  place  like  tins.  We  must  have  roofs  with  a 
simple  slope,  and  without  hips,  which  make  repairs  difficult. 
Gables  would  be  better.  You  have  marked  chain-courses  in 
the  angles.  I  see  no  harm  in  it ;  but  how  will  you  construct 
your  perspectives  of  windows  encircled  by  a  set  of  pilasters  ? 
No  chimney-tops  rise  above  your  roof ;  but  you  know  these 
must  be  in  sight.  Your  attics  are  too  low,  and  one  would 
knock  his  head  if  he  tried  to  look  out-doors.  The  lintels 
of  these  dormer-windows  must  be  at  least  two  metres  above 
the  floor.  And  why  oval  dormer-windows  ?  They  are  very 
inconvenient,  and  hard  to  shut.  You  have  traced  the  door- 
steps in  perspective,  like  the  Chinese;  but  that  is  a  detail. 
And  how  would  you  build  your  walls?  With  freestone 
blocks,  with  ashlar,  with  freestone  and  ashlar,  or  with  stone 
and  brick  ? 

"  Let 's  study  this  together.  "When  a  ground  or  horizontal 
plan  is  drawn  independently  of  the  arrangement,  the  first 
thing  to  consider  is  how  the  building  shall  be  protected. 
The  most  important  point  in  a  construction  is  the  means 
of  covering  it,  since  every  construction   designed   for   interior 


40 


THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 


uses  is  a  shelter.  That  is  undeniable,  is  it  not  ?  Well, 
what  do  you  see  in  the  main  body  of  your  building,  the 
plans  of  which  are  now  before  your  eyes  ?  Two  parallelo- 
grams which    cut   each    other   thus   (Fig.    3),  —  a  first   paral- 


www 


tJ~WH 


Fig.  3. 

lelogram,  a  bed,  cut  by  a  second  parallelogram,  e  f  g  h. 
We  will  take  no  account  of  the  alcoves  and  staircases. 
Now,  if  we  mount  gables  on  the  walls  a,  b,  c,  d,  the  ram- 
parts of  which  will  be  equal  to  the  line  a  c,  we  shall  have 
two  equilateral  triangles  of  which  the  bases  will  be  a  c 
and  b  d,  and  the  inclinations  at  60  degrees,  which  is  the 
most  convenient  inclination  for  the  slating,  as  the  snow 
would  not  remain  upon  it,  and  this  inclination  does  not 
give  a  resistance  to  the  wind.  If  we  erect  two  gables 
having  a  similar  inclination  on  the  walls  c,  f,  g,  h,  these 
walls  being  shorter  than  those  a,  b,  e,  d,  the  triangles  will 
be  smaller,  and  their  summit  will  not  be  as  high  as  the 
first.     Then   the   roof    erected    on    the   smaller   parallelogram 


PAUL'S  IDEAS  ABOUT  ART.  4 1 

will  penetrate  that  raised  on  the  larger,  and  -will  form  by 
this  penetration  re-entering  angles,  which  are  called  gutter- 
channels  ;  I  mark  these  by  i  k,  k  I,  m  n,  n  0.  For,  the  incli- 
nations of  the  two  roofs  being  equal,  in  a  horizontal  projec- 
tion, these  gutter-channels  will  divide  the  right  angle  into 
two  equal  angles ;  you  know  enough  of  geometry  to  under- 
stand that. 

"  Here,  then,  is  the  most  simple  method  of  protecting  our 
building ;  and  the  most  simple  is  the  best.  Now,  in  order 
that  our  two  staircases  should  enable  us  to  get  under  the 
roof,  their  frame,  or  envelope  of  masonry,  must  rise  above 
the  cornice  of  the  building  and  furnish  an  additional  floor, 
especially  for  them.  We  will  therefore  elevate  these  frames 
and  will  establish  roofings  for  them.  One,  that  of  the  large 
staircase,  shall  be  pyramidal,  with  a  quadrangular  base,  and 
that  of  the  smaller  staircase  shall  be  conical. 

"  Nothing  prevents  us  from  erecting  alcoves,  small  gables, 
on  the  two  walls  q  z,  s  t,  always  with  the  same  inclina- 
tion of  GO  degrees,  and  to  cover  these  with  two  small  roofs 
which  will  rest  upon  the  large  gables  a  c,  I  d.  As  for  the 
building  devoted  to  the  kitchen  on  the  ground-floor,  and  the 
laundry  on  the  first  floor,  we  will  pursue  the  same  method; 
and  by  erecting  a  gable  on  the  wall  u  v,  we  shall  have  a 
roof  over  this  part,  with  two  inclinations,  which  will  also 
rest  on  the  large  gable  b  d.  We  shall  then  have  a  junction, 
at    the    base,   of   the    roof   over   the    lodge   s  (,   and   of    that 


42  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

over  the  laundry.  We  will  have  a  shed,  in  order  to  avoid 
the  interior  pipes,  which  shall  penetrate  these  two  roofs 
and  will  throw  off  the  water  at  t.  Then  the  horizontal 
projection  of  this  group  of  roofs  will  be  the  tracing  which 
you  observe  on  Fig.  3.  The  chimney-tops  will  pass  above 
these  roofs,  as  I  have  pointed  out  to  you,  and  these  tops 
should  rise  at  least  to  the  level  of  the  ridgine:,  that  is, 
above  the  upper  edge  of  the  highest  roof,  so  that  the  chim- 
neys may  not  smoke.  As  for  the  coverings  of  the  out- 
buildings, which  are  lower  and  only  have  a  ground-floor, 
we  will  not  just  now  deal  with  them. 

"Let  us  keep  in  mind  that  these  gables,  rising  vertically, 
will  enable  us  to  arrange  guest-chambers  very  conveniently, 
besides  rooms  which  we  must  provide  for  the  servants, 
lighting  them  by  dormer-windows ;  and  we  can  have  excel- 
lent windows  with  balconies,  if  we  choose,  for  the  rooms 
looking  out  upon  the  gables. 

"  This  decided  on,  it  would  be  well  to  divide  off  this  floor 
under  the  roof.  Put  a  piece  of  tracing-paper  over  the  plan 
of  the  first  floor.  Good !  Now  trace  all  the  thick  walls, 
which,  necessarily,  should  rise  to  the  roof,  since  they  carry 
chimneys.  Trace  a  line,  at  a  metre's  distance  within  the 
walls  which  do  not  carry  gables,  which  .indicates  the  space 
lost  by  the  inclination  of  the  roof ;  you  will  thus  have  the 
space  which  you  are  able  to  utilize'.  The  main  staircase, 
as  well    as    the    servants',  will    ascend   to  this  floor.     Starting 


Fig.  5. 


U  i    i i i I i i i i l"i    i    i — i — ) — i — i — i — i — I* 


-e- 


Fig.  4. 


Fig.  4.  —  PLAN   OF   THE   ATTIC    FLOOR.  —  Page  43. 
Fig.  5.  —FRONT   ELEVATION.  —  Pag<e  44. 


PAUL'S  IDEAS  ABOUT  ART.  43 

from  the  thick  bearing-wall  which,  extending  from  the 
main  staircase,  joins  the  angle  of  the  main  body  towards 
the  southeast,  which  is  the  best  aspect,  we  will  dispose 
the  guest-chambers,  which  will  thus  form  a  separate  'quar- 
ter,' in  communication  with  the  rest  of  the  apartments  by 
the  main  staircase.  We  can  obtain  in  this  part  two  good 
rooms,  A  and  B,  with  their  toilet  cabinets,  a  and  h ;  then 
two  smaller  rooms,  G  and  I),  all  having  a  chimney-place. 
The  water-closet  for  these  rooms  will  be  at  W.  In  the 
other  part,  and  in  direct  communication  with  the  servants' 
staircase,  we  can  easily  find  four  servants'  rooms,  E,  F,  G, 
H,  drains,  7,  and  a  water-closet,  L,  for  the  domestics. 
(Fig.  4.) 

"  Over  the  stable,  carriage-house,  and  wash-house,  we  can 
find,  under  the  roof,  three  or  four  rooms  for  servants,  coach- 
man, groom,  and  so  on. 

"Now  let  us  make  a  sketch  of  the  fronts  or  facades. 

"  We  will  raise  the  soil  of  the  ground-floor  a  metre  and  a 
half  above  the  soil  outside,  so  that  our  cellars  may  be  con- 
veniently aired  and  the  ground-floor  protected  from  the 
dampness  of  the  ground.  We  will  give  the  ground-floor  a 
height  of  4  m.  20  c.  under  the  ceiling.  Trace  at  this  level 
a  horizontal  band  30c  in  height;  this  will  be  the  thick- 
ness of  the  flooring.  We  will  give  a  heighl  of  3  m.  70  c. 
between  ceilings  to  the  rooms  <>i'  the  first  Hour,  which 
are   smaller   than    those  of  tin-   go>und-floor.     Now  trace    the 


44  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

thickness  of  the  cornice  with  its  sill,  at  55  c.  The  roof- 
ing, the  height  of  which  will  be  determined  by  that  of 
the  gables,  will  then  commence.  Taking  the  entrance  front, 
project  the  angles  of  the  building,  the  doors  and  the  win- 
dows, vertically,  according  to  the  plan.  Now  you  have  the 
outline  of  this  front  arranged." 

The  cousin  then  took  the  drawing-board  and  sketched  the 
front   (Fig.   5).      A  fair   copy   of  all   this   was   made,  with   a 

small   scale,  to   be   sent   to    Madame   Marie   1ST ,   for    her 

criticism,  and  to  be  put  in  execution  when  her  response  was 
received. 

Paul  began  to  get  an  inkling  of  some  of  the  difficulties 
which  the  slightest  plan  of  building  entailed,  and  asked 
himself  how  Papa  Branchu,  who  scarcely  knew  how  to  read 
and  count,  could  have  built  the  mayor's  house,  which  was 
far  from  a  bad-looking  one. 

When  he  asked  his  cousin  about  this,  the  latter  replied : 
"  Papa  Branchu  understands  the  practice  of  his  trade ;  he 
is  a  good  rustic  mason,  who  began  by  carrying  a  hod  on  his 
shoulders,  is  the  son  of  a  mason,  and  does  what  he  used  to 
see  his  father  do.  Besides,  he  is  intelligent,  hard-working, 
and  honest.  He  has  learned  by  practice  alone  how  to 
build  as  they  build  in  the  country,  and  perhaps  a  little 
better,  since  he  voluntarily  reasons  about  what  he  is  doing. 
He  observes,  and  is  neither  conceited  *  nor  foolish;  he  avoids 
the  faults  of  some,  and  copies  the  qualities  of  others.     Should 


PAUL'S  IDEAS  ABOUT  ART.  45 

you  see  him  at  •work  you  would  sometimes  be  surprised  at 
the  justice  of  his  observations,  the  pertinacity  with  which  he 
defends  his  opinion,  and  the  average  practice  of  which  he 
knows  how  to  make  use.  If  some  one  gives  him  instruc- 
tions the  sense  of  which  he  does  not  thoroughly  comprehend, 
he  says  not  a  word,  but  comes  next  day  to  explain  what 
he  thinks  lie  has  understood,  and  thus  forces  you  to  take 
up  again,  one  by  one,  all  the  doubtful  points,  and  to  com- 
plete all  the  incomplete  or  obscure  propositions.  I  like 
Papa  Branch u,  because  of  the  tenacity  with  which  he  seeks 
to  comprehend  what  it  is  enjoined  on  him  to  do,  —  and  this 
tenacity,  which  makes  him  seem  a  bore  to  some,  is  to  my 
mind  a  precious  quality  ;  for  he  wishes  to  have  foreseen 
everything,  answered  every  objection,  and  become  familiar 
with  what  is  needed  in  all  points.  He  left  the  service  of 
your  neighbor,  the  chatelain,  because  they  made  him  undo 
to-day  what  he  had  done  yesterday.  Ask  him  about  this  ;  it 
is  curious  to  hear  him.  This  worthy  man,  who  -understands 
nothing  but  the  most  elementary  practice  of  his  trade,  but 
who  possesses  this  thoroughly,  who  is  familiar  with  all 
the  materials  of  the  country  and  the  manner  of  using  them 
for  the  work  in  hand,  will  tell  you  that  the  architect  of 
that  interminable  edifice  is  an  ignoramus,  and  he  will  prove 
it  to  you,  in  his  way.  Still,  it  is  clear  that  this  architect 
knows  a  great  deal  more  than   Papa  Branchu. 

"As  a  general  rule,  before  giving  an  order,  you  must  have 


46  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

thought  over  seven  times  all  the  objections  to  which  it  can 
give  rise  ;  otherwise,  you  will  now  and  then  find  a  Papa  Bran- 
chu,  who  will  show  you  that  you  have  been  a  madcap,  in  a 
word.  An  architect  has,  of  course,  the  resource  of  shutting  the 
mouths  of  objectors,  when  these  are  placed  under  his  orders ; 
but  you  do  not  prove  to  people  that  they  are  wrong  by  im- 
posing silence  upon  them ;  above  all,  if,  some  days  after,  the 
director  of  the  work  gives  contradictory  orders.  Everybody 
possesses  his  share  of  self-esteem,  which  must  be  taken  into 
account.  As  much  as  a  subordinate  is  flattered,  and  sees 
you  willing  to  listen  to  his  observations  when  they  are  well 
founded,  so  much  the  more  is  he  disposed  to  think  you 
incapable  if  you  reject  without  examining  them ;  especially 
if  you  show  him  shortly  after  that  he  may  be  in  the  right. 
There  is  only  one  way  of  establishing  discipline  in  carrying 
out  a  work  like  this  ;  it  is,  to  prove  to  all  that  you  know 
more  about  it  than  they,  and  to  take  account  of  the  diffi- 
culties of  its  execution." 


PAULS   COURSE   OF  PRACTICAL   CONSTRUCTION       47 


CHAPTER   V. 

PAUL  FOLLOWS  A  COURSE  OF  PRACTICAL  CONSTRUCTION. 

H-IAXWHILE  the  letters  and  papers  brought  every 
day  melancholy  news.  A  week  before  the  land 
had  been  invaded  by  the  enemy.  It  was  hardly 
seasonable  to  build.  M.  de  Gandelau  was  called  upon  every 
moment  to  receive  the  peasants  in  his  study,  who  came  to 
tell  him  their  fears  and  seek  his  advice.  The  youths  were 
drafted  to  be  incorporated  in  the  militia.  The  shops  in 
the  neighborhood  were  closed  for  want  of  hands.  Groups 
of  peasant  men  and  women  wandered  along  the  roads,  and, 
contrary  to  the  peaceful  custom  of  this  province,'  talked  ex- 
citedly ;  some  of  the  women  were  weeping.  Field  work  was 
suspended ;  people  felt  everywhere,  as  it  were,  a  dismal  shud- 
dering; in  the  cottages  lights  gleamed  till  one  in  the  morn- 
ing ;  voices  were  heard  of  people  calling  each  other.  The 
cattle  returned  home  sooner  than  usual,  and  Avere  let  out 
later  in  the  morning.  On  the  roads,  when  two  men  met, 
they  tarried  a  long  time  to  talk.  Sometimes,  instead  of  going 
each  on  his  way,  they  hurried  off  together,  and  directed 
their  steps  to  the  neighboring  village. 


48  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

It  was  the  20th  of  August,  1870;  on  meeting  his  father 
in  the  early  morning,  Paul  found  him  more  anxious  than 
on  previous  clays ;  and  it  was  not  an  attack  of  his  gout 
which  made   him   anxious.     The    cousin  was   there. 

"  The  young  are  too  old,  the  rest  are  too  young,"  said 
M.  de  Gandelau.  "  If  this  hoy  was  four  or  five  years  older, 
I  would  send  him  with  all  these  other  young  men  who  are 
called  on  to  follow  the  flag ;  but  happily  for  his  mother  he 
is  too  young.  It  will  be  long,  they  say.  God  knows  what 
will  become  of  our  poor  country,  engaged  in  a  senseless 
war ;  but  we  have  only  one  course  to  take  ;  to  remain  here 
in  the  midst  of  all  these  anxious  families,  deprived  of  their 
children  ;  to  wait  and  try  to  give  occupation  to  these  people, 
who  are  a  little  out  of  their  heads.  Do  not  let  us  abandon 
ourselves,  nor  yield  to  vain  anxieties ;  let  us  work  ;  that  is 
the  remedy  for  all  ills;  and  misfortune  will  not  find  us 
more  deprived  of  courage  after  the  laborious  days  than  after 
feverish  indolence.  I  foresee  that  Paul  will  not  be  able  to 
return  so  soon  to  his  school  at  Paris.  As  for  you,  cousin, 
nothing  obliges  you  at  this  time  to  remain  in  one  place 
rather  than  another.  Your  business  will  be  everywhere  sus- 
pended. Piemain  here,  where  you  can  make  yourself  useful 
as  long  as  the  country  does  not  need  you. 

"  "Who  knows  ?  If  the  war  is  a  long  one,  we  will  try  all 
the  same  to  build  Marie's  house.  It  will  be  a  way  of  giv- 
ing   employment    to    idle   arms.      You    can    teach    Paul,   by 


PAUL'S   COURSE   OF  PRACTICAL    CONSTRUCTION.       49 


practice,  the  elements  of  construction.  We  shall  fail,  per- 
haps, in  that  indispensable  sinew  for  building,  —  money. 
Well,  that  will  make  it  necessary  to  find  a  way  of  dispensing 
with  it.  We  have  the  first  materials,  arms,  and  the  where- 
withal to  nourish  them  for  a  while.  Let  us  not,  then,  give 
way  to  discouragement  or  indulge  in  useless  recriminations; 
let  us  work,  and  we  shall  only  be  the  better  prepared  if,  in 
a  supreme  effort,  recourse  must  be  had  to  all,  old  men  and 
children,  to  defend  the  soil."' 

As  Madame  de  Gandelau  joined  her  entreaties  to  those 
of  her  husband,  it  was  not  difficult  to  persuade  the  cousin 
to  establish  himself  at  the  chateau ;  and  three  days  after, 
having  attended  to  some  matters  of  business,  he  returned, 
supplied  with  an  ample  provision  of  paper  and  instruments 
necessary  to  the  execution  of  the  details  of  building. 

They  were  forced  to  wait  until  the  plan  sent  to  Paul's 
sister  should  be  returned,  approved  or  altered,  before  setting 
to  work ;  and  the  cousin  decided  to  employ  the  interval  by 
giving  Paul  the  first  ideas  of  constructing  a  dwelling,  set- 
tling that  these  lessons  should  take  place  in  the  morning, 
and  that  in  the  afternoon  our  embryo  architect  should  write 
out  his  lesson,  to  be  corrected  in  the  family  circle  in  the 
evening.      Thus  the  days  would  be  profitably  filled  out. 


50  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

First  Lesson. 

"If  you  wish,  little  cousin,  we  will  take  our  lessons 
walking,  and  for  a  good  reason." 

This  way  of  proceeding  pleased  Paul  at  first,  for  at  school 
he  was  not  used  to  this  method  of  being  taught.  The 
prospect  of  taking  lessons  between  four  walls,  written  out 
between  four  walls,  and  corrected  between  four  walls,  had 
not  at  first  seemed  to  him  harmonious  with  the  idea  which 
a  boy  of  sixteen  conceives  of  the  sacred  hours  of  vacation, 
though  architecture  appeared  to  be  a  fine  thing  from  his 
first  attempts ;  and  though  he  was  quite  proud  to  reflect  that 
his  plan  was  perhaps  at  that  moment  under  his  sister's  and 
brother-in-law's  eyes.  Still,  in  going  to  his  cousin's  room, 
he  had  looked  with  a  covetous  eye  upon  the  big  trees  in 
the  park  and  the  verdant  fields  which  shone  between  their 
black  trunks.  A  sigh  of  satisfaction  escaped  from  him  in 
descending  the  steps  of  the  house. 

"  Let  us  go  slowly  towards  the  spot  where  we  propose 
to  build  the  house,"  said  the  cousin,  as  soon  as  they  were 
out  doors ;  "  a  knowledge  of  the  ground  is  the  first  of  all 
that  the  architect  should  possess.  There  are,  as  you  know, 
several  kinds  of  locations ;  some  are  resisting,  others  are 
soft  and  compressible  to  various  degrees.  Eocks  make  the 
firmest  foundations,  on  which  you  can' build  with  all  safety, 
provided    at    least    that    they   have    not    been    excavated    or 


PAULS   COURSE    OF  PRACTICAL    CONSTRUCTION.       5  I 


deranged.  We  give  the  name  'virgin  soil'  to  every  spot 
which  we  find  in  the  state  in  which  the  geological  phenom- 
ena have  placed  it,  and  the  name  of  '  made  ground '  to 
every  spot  which  has  been  overturned  or  deranged  by  the 
hand  of  man,  vegetation,  or  sudden  torrent  alluvia.  As  a 
rule,  you  must  only  build  on  virgin  soil;  yet  among  these 
there  are  soils  you  must  distrust,  as  I  will  show  you  pres- 
ently. 

"We  must,  then,  try  to  distinguish  a  virgin  soil  from 
made  or  altered  ground ;  to  do  this,  a  certain  knowledge 
of  elementary  geology  is  necessary.  Thus  crystallized  rocks, 
granites,  gneiss,  the  crystalline  slates,  remain  in  the  state  in 
which  the  cooling  of  the  earth  and  the  upheaving  of  its 
crust  have  left  them.  Sandstone,  limestone,  chalk,  sand, 
even  clay,  disposed  by  the  waters  under  an  enormous  press- 
ure, are  stratified,  that  is,  deposited  in  beds,  like  layers  of 
construction,  and  present,  as  it  were,  an  excellent  site. 

"The  hill  here  on  our  right,  towards  which  your  sister's 
woods  extend,  presents,  as  you  can  see,  escarpments  made 
by  the  stream  which  we  are  about  to  cross ;  observe  that 
the  stone  which  seems  laid  bare  is  disposed  in  nearly  hori- 
zontal beds.  It  is  a  limestone,  excellent  for  building  upon, 
and  upon  which  you  can  rest  your  building  in  complete 
security.  So,  too,  you  may  excavate  cellars  in  those  banks, 
and  make  use  of  the  excavated  material  for  erecting  the 
walls.     "We    are    now    walking    on    sandy    clays    mixed    with 


52  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

limestone.  This  also  forms  an  excellent,  not  compressible, 
soil.  It  is  otherwise  with  pure  clays  ;  not  that  they  are 
compressible,  but,  if  they  are  not  packed,  —  if,  for  instance, 
they  are  upon  a  declivity  of  the  soil,  —  by  the  effect  of  the 
water  which  filters  between  their  beds  they  slip,  and  the 
house  erected  on  their  surface  descends  with  them.  You 
also  sometimes  find  villages,  situated  on  clay  slopes,  slip- 
ping down  into  the  valley.  AVe  must  therefore  pay  great 
attention  to  the  method  of  laying  foundations  upon  clay, 
if  we  would  avoid  such  a  danger.  Sometimes,  also,  when 
they  are  strongly  compressed  by  a  heavy  building,  the  clays 
yield  under  the  weight  to  swell  up  a  little  farther  off; 
by  a  seesaw  motion.  The  sea-sands,  pure,  fine,  or  gravelly, 
are  excellent  for  receiving  foundations,  because  the  sand 
naturally  settles  when  moistened ;  so  much  so  that  you 
can,  if  needful,  form  an  artificial  soil  by  transferring  good 
beds  of  sand  to  an  unfavorable  ground,  and  by  thoroughly 
moistening  them.  The  finer  the  sand,  and  the  freer  it  is 
from  clay,  the  better  it  is ;  for  all  these  small,  heavy,  equal 
grains  have  but  slight  intervals  between  them,  and  are  in 
close  contact  with  each  other  at  several  points.  If  the 
weight  compresses  the  bed  of  sand,  and  forces  it  to  settle, 
this  settling  is  regular,  and  hence  free  .from  danger.  The 
building  thus  descends,  according  to  its  weight,  several  mil- 
limetres, but  is  not  dislocated,  because  it  sinks  regularly. 
The    alluvia    formed    by   sluggish    watercourses,    that    is,   by 


PAUL'S   COURSE    OF  PRACTICAL    CONSTRUCTION.        53 


rivers  or  lakes,  thus  compose  good  soils,  because  gravel  or 
mud  beds  are  deposited  little  by  little,  and  are  well  settled 
by  the  weight  of  the  water  which  disposed  them.  It  is 
otherwise  with  marshy  soils ;  for,  as  the  water  lias  no  cur- 
rent, it  permits  plants  and  weeds  to  take  root  in  its  bed. 
When  these  plants  die,  others  each  year  take  their  places. 
Thus  successive  beds  of  detritus  are  formed  under  a  slight 
pressure,  which  have  innumerable  cavities  between  them,  as 
would  a  heap  of  decayed  hay.  These  deposits  are  called 
turf-pits.  You  can  erect  nothing  upon  them,  for  they  sink 
under  the  least  weight.  Stop  ;  here  we  are  near  the  stream, 
at  a  point  which  betrays  this  very  phenomenon.  Stamp 
tins-  thick,  turfy  soil.  You  see  that  the  earth  sounds  hol- 
low and  shakes  under  the  shock.  Sometimes  these  turf- 
pits  reach  to  such  a  depth,  by  the  accumulation  of  vegetable 
matter,  that  you  cannot  sound  their  bottom ;  if  you  built 
over  them,  your  building  would  sink  little  by  little,  often 
unequally,  by  reason  of  the  declivity  of  the  subsoil,  so  that 
it  would  lean  to  one  side.  It  is  thus  that  the  towers  of 
Pisa  and  Bologna  in  Italy  inclined,  whilst  they  were  being 
built,  at  the  moment  when  the  pit  was  completely  com- 
pressed under  their  weight.  When  you  find  these  soils, 
either  you  must  clear  away  the  turf  until  y»>u  reach  rock 
or  gravel,  or  else  sink  piles  very  near  together,  like  a  game 
of  ninepins,  until  they  can  be  driven  no  farther.  Then 
on  the  tops  of  these  piles  they  raise  an  artificial  foundation, 


54  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

a  sort  of  frame  of  carpentry  work,  between  which  they  run 
concrete,  and  upon  which  they  place  the  first  layers  of 
masonry.  Entire  towns  are  so  built  ;  Venice  and  Amster- 
dam rest  upon  forests  of  piles  sunk  into  a  spongy  mud, 
formed  under  a  shallow  sheet  of  water  which  is  not  heavy 
enough  to  compress  it. 

"  But  it  does  not  suffice  to  understand  the  nature  of  the 
soil  upon  which  you  propose  to  build ;  you  must  also  exam- 
ine the  subjacent  watercourses,  or  how  the  flow  of  rain- 
water acts  upon  their  surface  or  in  their  interstices.  The 
presence  of  a  clay-bank,  slight  as  it  may  be,  between  lime, 
sandstone,  or  sand  beds,  ought  to  be  taken  into  account;  for 
these  banks,  being  water-tight,  that  is,  not  permitting  rain- 
water to  penetrate  their  thickness,  favor  currents  or  sheets  of 
water,  which  might  occasion  grave  derangements  in  the  foun- 
dations. Observe  this  verdant  bed  along  the  escarpment;  it 
is  clay,  but  very  slight,  and  could  not  obstruct  the  water; 
but  supposing  it  was  fifty  centimetres  in  thickness.  The  rain, 
which  will  easily  penetrate  the  gravel  above,  will  be  arrested 
on  this  bed,  and  will  take  its  way  according  to  the  inclina- 
tion of  the  clay-bed ;  little  by  little  it  will  form  cavities,  like 
little  lottos,  and  a  concealed  current.  If  von  make  a  cellar 
or  foundation  wall  descending  below  this  sheet  of  water,  the 
latter  will  wash  against  it,  will  penetrate  it,  whatever  you 
may  do,  and  will  fill  your  cellars.  That  is  why  it  will  be 
necessary,  in  this   case,  to  turn  aside    this  sheet  of  water,  in 


PAUL'S    COURSE   OF  PRACTICAL   CONSTRUCTION.       55 

drawing    it    off   from   your    building    l>y    means    of   a    drain. 
Lend    me    your    memorandum-book,   and    I    will    show    you 
'  clearly  by  a  tracing  what  I  am  telling  you  (Fig.  6). 


! 


46  if 


Fig.  6. 


"  Let  A  B  be  the  clay-bed,  C  D  the  gravel  or  sand  bed 
which  water  can  penetrate.  There  will  be  formed  a  sheet  of 
running  water,  after  every  shower,  from  E  to  F.  This  sheet 
will  be  arrested  by  the  foundation  or  cellar  wall  G  H,  and 
will  soon  penetrate  it,  since  it  can  neither  remount  nor  trav- 
erse the  clay.  You  must,  then,  establish  a  transversal  drain 
at  I,  with  openings  upward,  by  which  the  water  will  enter 
the  gutter,  as  the  tracing  K  shows.  This  drain  will  carry 
the  water  it  receives  wherever  you  wish,  and  will  leave  the 
wall  G  H  perfectly  dry.     You  comprehend,  do  you  not? 

"But  if  you  lay  your  foundations  in  the  open  clay  you 
must   take   precautions    with   another   object ;    for,   as    I    told 


56 


THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 


you  just  now,  it  might  be  that  the  whole  clay-bank   would 
slip. 

"Clay-banks  slip,  above  all,  when,  in  their  slope,  they  pre- 
sent such  a  section  as  I  trace  thus  (Fig.  7) ;  let  A  be  a  rock- 
bank,  B  a  clay-bank.  The  rain-water  accumulating  above, 
from  D  to  C,  will  pass  at  G  under  this  clay-bank ;  and  if 
the  rain  continues  long  they  will  form,  from  C  to  E,  a  soft, 
thick,  soapy  bed,  so  that  the  clay-bank  C BE  will  slip  on 
this  bed  by  its  own  weight ;  above  all,  if  that  weight  is  in- 
creased by  a  building  at  G. 


Fig.  7. 

"How  avert  this  danger?  First,  in  collecting  the  water  at 
C  in  a  sewer  or  a  drain,  so  that  it  shall  not  pass  under 
the  clay-bank  if  it  is  very  thick;  secondly,  if  it  has  only  the 
thickness  of  a  few  metres,  in  sinking  the ' foundation-wall  H 
to  the  rock  or  gravel,  and  in  making  a  collecting  sewer  at  /, 
as  I  said  just  now. 

"Then    the  triangle  of  the  clay,  C I K,  cannot  slip,  being 


PAUL'S   COURSE    OF  PRACTICAL   CONSTRUCTION.       S7 

checked  by  the  well-laid  wall.  The  clay  portion  below,  not 
being  moistened  underneath,  will  not  slip.  But  the  wall  H 
and  the  sewer  /  must  be  thick  enough  to  resist  the  pressure 
of  the  triangle  C I K. 

"  You  see  how  important  it  is  to  take  account  of  the 
ground  upon  which  you  are  to  operate ;  and  how  essential 
it  is  that  the  architect  should  know  something  of  geology. 
Remember  this  well ;  for  the  architects  of  the  last  generation 
despised  that  study,  and  left  it  in  many  instances  to  their 
builders. 

"We  will  also  refer  to  slimy,  flat  soils,  soaked  with  water, 
where  you  cannot  dig  because  they  have  scarcely  the  consist- 
ence  of  compact  mud,  in  which  the  more  you  penetrate 
the  less  resistance  you  encounter.  When  such  lands  are  not 
turfy,  contain  but  little  vegetable  detritus,  and  are  always 
penetrated  by  the  same  quantity  of  water,  you  can  build  upon 
them,  since  water  is  not  compressible.  Your  building  is  then 
like  a  boat ;  the  whole  question  consists  in  preventing  the 
water  from  escaping  from  under  the  weight  of  the  building 
as  it  does  from  under  a  boat.  When  you  plunge  into  a  half 
full  bath-tub,  the  water  ascends  at  the  sides  in  a  quantity 
equal  to  the  volume  of  your  body.  But  suppose  that  a 
plank,  cut  to  exactly  the  contour  of  your  body,  prevents  the 
water  from  rising  about  you ;  you  could  not  descend  into 
the  water,  which  would  carry  you  on  its  surface.  Well, 
when  you  wish  to  build  on  a  muddy  soil,  the  problem  con- 


58  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

sists  in  preventing  the  n.ud  from  rising  around  the  house 
as  fast  as  it  sinks  in.  I  must  make  a  drawing  to  show 
you  the  proper  way  to  arrive  at  a  good  result  in  such  a 
case  (Fig.  8). 


A     --A 

- 1  -\ 


,r!jpsfnf'ii1,ii,11«i  i|ii!i|lii  ■«   K 


Fig.  8. 

"  We  have  dug  into  a  made  soil,  A,  that  is,  a  soil  on  which 
it  is  not  safe  to  build.  At  B  we  reach  the  virgin  soil ;  but 
this  is  very  moist,  —  an  old  mire  soaked  with  water  and  into 
which  you  would  sink  in  walking  upon  it.  The  deeper  we 
dig  into  this  the  more  moist  we  find  it.  A  sounding-line  sunk 
two  or  three  metres  will  always  reach  the  same  bottom,  and 
the  holes  it  makes  will  be  at  once  filled  with  water.  Piles 
driven  in  sink  to  their  heads.  Now  you  see  very  well  that, 
to  erect  an  ordinary  building,  you  cannot  spend  double  the 
sum  on  the  foundation  that  you  would  on  the  building  itself. 
We  must  reflect.  We  will  make,  in  order  to  receive  the 
walls  which  form  the  perimeter  of  the  house,  trenches  from 
50  to  60  centimetres  in  depth,  such  as  I  trace  at  E ;  then, 
in  the  trenches  and  on  the  whole  surface'  of  the  construction 
we  will  run  concrete  of  a  thickness  of  from  60  to  80  centi- 
metres between  the  trenches,  as  I  trace  at  F.  We  shall  thus 
have  made  a  sort  of  cover,  of  a  homogeneous   material,  which 


PAUL'S   COURSE   OF  PRACTICAL    CONSTRUCTIO.X.       59 

will  prevent  the  mud  G  IT,  compressed  under  its  borders, 
from  ascending.  The  weight  of  the  soil  A  will  suffice  to 
compress  the  rest.  Thus  you  could  safely  build  on  this  pla- 
teau. 

"  You  asked  what  concrete  is,  and  how  it  is  made.  This 
you  will  learn  after  a  while."  While  talking  and  making 
sketches,  Paul  and  his  cousin  had  readied  the  ascent  of  the 
slope  where  the  mansion  was  to  be  built. 

"  The  situation  is  a  good  one,"  said  the  cousin.  "  We  have 
an  excellent  limestone  soil,  whence  also  we  can  take  the 
stone  for  building.  Here,  on  the  lower  declivity,  are  distinct 
sandy  clays,  with  which  we  can  make  brick.  Here  is  the 
course  of  the  running  water  which  comes  from  the  wood  and 
emerges  below  the  last  of  the  limestone  banks ;  we  may 
easily  divert  it  along  the  house,  where  it  will  be  doubly 
useful,  for  it  will  give  us  water  for  household  purposes,  and 
will  carry  off  in  a  sewer  the  slops  and  dirt,  which  will  be 
lost  in  that  old  excavation  which  I  see  on  our  left. 
•  "  It  seems  to  me  that  these  banks  have  already  been 
worked  at  several  points.  We  may  find,  in  these  excava- 
tions, cpaarries  made  carelessly,  as  is  too  often  the  case  in 
the  country." 

"How  can  you  tell  the  stone  that  is  fit  to  build  with?" 
asked  Paul. 

"It  is  not  always  easy,  and  it  is  with  this  kind  of  knowl- 
edge,   as    with    many    others,    that    experience    ought    to    con- 


60  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

firm  theory.  Among  limestones,  which  usually  comprise, 
with  certain  sandstones,  the  material  which  can  be  easily 
quarried  and  cut,  some  are  hard,  others  soft ;  but  the  hard- 
est are  not  always  those  which  best  resist  the  corrosions  of 
time.  Many  limestones  contain  clay,  and  as  this  retains 
water,  when  the  frosts  come  the  clay  parts  swell  and  burst 
the  blocks,  the  composition  of  which  is  carbonate  of  lime 
and  silex  in  a  greater  or  less  quantity.  Limestones  free  from 
clay  resist  dampness  and  frost.  When,  as  here,  you  see  banks 
despoiled  by  an  erosion,  it  is  easy  to  distinguish  those  which 
are  good  from  those  which  are  not.  Thus,  look  at  this  big 
black  block,  the  solid  and  naked  face  of  which  has  been 
covered  with  lichens ;  it  is  of  an  excellent  quality,  for  lichens 
come  very  slowly ;  and,  as  they  have  been  able  to  attach 
themselves  to  this  stone,  and  give  it  this  gray,  speckled 
appearance,  the  limestone  must  have  long  resisted  the  decom- 
posing action  of  the  atmosphere.  Above,  you  see  a  bank  of 
almost  pure  white,  and  apparently  very  sound.  Well,  it  has 
this  good  appearance  only  because,  at  each  frost,  it  lets  fall 
its  skin,  and  its  surface  is  decomposed.  If  you  touch  it,  you 
will  find  that  a  white  dust  will  remain  in  your  hand.  That 
is  so,  is  it  not  ?  Thus  the  quality  of  this  block  is  bad,  and 
you  see  that  underneath  it  the  grass  is  strewn  with  small 
limestone  exfoliations,  whilst  the  grass  under  the  gray  block 
is  free  from  all  dust.  It  is,  therefore,  very  useful  to  an 
architect,  when  he  wishes  to  build,  to  go  and  observe  quarries, 


PAUL'S   COURSE   OF  PRACTICAL    CONSTRUCTION.       6 1 

and  how  the  banks  composing  them  bear  the  free  air  ;  and, 
between  us,  it  is  what  architects  nowadays  scarcely  take  the 
trouble  to  do." 

Second  Lesson. 

Paul  was  much  pleased  with  his  cousin's  method  of  giving 
him  an  elementary  idea  of  construction.  The  evening  before 
he  had  written  down  all  that  had  been  explained  to  him 
concerning  the  soil ;  he  had  even  skilfully  added  drawings 
to  his  text ;  and  corrections  had  been  rapidly  made  after 
dinner.  But  on  this  day  the  rain  prevented  them  from  going 
out/and  the  cousin  decided  that  the  second  lesson  should  be 
given  indoors. 

"  We  shall  have  examples  enough  before  our  eyes ;  the 
chateau  will  furnish  us  with  them.  We  will  examine  it  from 
cellar  to  garret,  and  will  study  its  materials  as  well  as  its 
method  of  construction,  criticising  them  if  they  are  bad,  and 
taking  note  of  their  good  points." 

When  master  and  scholar  had  descended  underground,  the 
former  began  thus  :  "  Observe  that  this  cellar  wall,  which  is 
next  the  court,  is  humid,  and  that  the  mortar  which  unites  in 
stones  has  nearly  everywhere  fallen  off,  especially  towards  the 
top.  That  comes  from  two  causes  :  first,  precaution  was  not 
taken,  in  elevating  the  wall,  to  coat  it  on  the  outside  so  that 
the  water  would  slip  down  from  the  soil  to  its  base;  and, 
secondly,  mortars    have   not  been   used  in  the   building,  con- 


62  THE   STORY   OF  A    HOUSE. 


taining  hydraulic  lime.  There  are  two  principal  kinds  of 
lime :  one  is  obtained  by  the  baking  of  the  compact  lime- 
stone which  is  usually  found  at  the  top  of  a  bank,  and  which 
is  called  '  fat,'  because  it  is  glutinous  when  it  is  slackened, 
and  attaches  itself  to  the  plaster-beater  with  which  it  is 
puddled.  This  lime,  being  sunk  in  water,  emits  a  thick  vapor, 
as  you  may  have  seen,  and  when  mixed  with  sand,  thickens 
slowly.  Used  above  the  soil,  mortars  made  with  this  lime 
finally  become  very  hard,  but  preserve  more  or  less,  for  a 
time,  a  certain  plastic  quality.  These  mortars,  however, 
thickening  slowly,  aye  easily  diluted  by  water,  and  in  that 
case  never  become  hard.  Hydraulic  limes,  obtained  by  the 
baking  of  clay-lime  mixed  with  sand,  rapidly  assume,  on  the 
other  hand,  a  great  hardness,  and  remain  all  the  more  so 
when  the  mortar  is  in  a  wet  place.  They  call  this  lime 
'  hydraulic,'  because  it  is  employed  in  all  masonry  established 
in  water.  They  make  artificial  hydraulic  lime,  when  the  soil 
does  not  furnish  clay-lime,  by  grinding  up  a  certain  quantity 
of  clay  with  limestone  proper  for  making  ordinary  limes. 
The  hydraulic  lime  is  recognized  by  mixing  it  with  water  : 
then  it  fizzes,  but  produces  very  little  vapor. 

"  It  is  with  hydraulic  lime  that  the  concretes,  of  which  I 
told  you  yesterday,  are  made.  Having  prepared  the  mortar, 
they  mix  with  it  a  certain  quantity  of  hard  pebbles,  of  about 
the  thickness  of  an  egg ;  they  puddle  the  whole,  and  throw  the 
mixture    into    the    excavations,  where    they  ram    it    in    witli 


PAUL'S   COURSE   OF  PRACTICAL    CONSTRUCTION.     6- 


wooden  beaters.  If  the  lime  is  good  and  the  concrete  well 
made,  a  real  rock  is  thus  composed,  which  resembles  natural 
conglomerates,  or  pudding-stone.  The  water  with  difficulty 
penetrates  these  concretes  when  they  have  taken  consistency, 
and  thus  you  avoid  the  subjacent  infiltrations  which  occur 
in  cellars  made  in  very  wet  soils. 

"  If  the  wall  you  see  here  had  been  built  with  mortar  made 
with  hydraulic  lime,  it  would  be  intact,  and  its  junctions 
would  be  as  hard  as  the  stone  itself.  You  will  easily  under- 
stand that,  when  the  water  has  little  by  little  diluted  and  lique- 
fied the  mortar  of  the  layers  and  that  joined  to  the  base  of  a 
wall,'  the  stones  of  which  it  is  composed  settle,  and  so  all  the 
rest  of  the  building  suffers.  This  is  why  the  front  of  this 
house,  looking  upon  the  court,  betrays  a  number  of  fissures, 
which  are  repaired  from  time  to  time,  but  without,  of  course, 
getting  rid  of  the  cause  of  the  evil. 


Fig.  9. 


"You  see  that  the  cellar  wall  which  receives  the  vault  is 
very  thick,  much  thicker  than  the  ground-floor  wall.  The 
latter  is  only  sixty  centimetres  in  thickness,  whilst  this  wall 


64  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

is  nearly  a  metre.  This  additional  thickness  is  given  to  the 
interior  mainly  to  receive  what  we  call  the  '  summer '  of  the 
vault,  A  sketch  will  illustrate  for  you  the  reason  of  this 
arrangement  (Fig.  9).  Let  A  be  the  thickness  of  the  ground- 
floor  wall  of  a  house,  which  we  put  at  fifty  centimetres ;  if 
there  are  to  be  cellars  under  this  ground-floor,  the  interior 
soil  being  at  B  and  the  exterior  soil  at  C,  it  will  be  proper, 
in  the  first  place,  to  indicate  the  interior  soil  by  a  projection, 
a  greater  thickness  being  given  to  this  wall  on  the  outer 
side ;  let  this  be  five  centimetres.  At  A'  the  wall  will,  there- 
fore, be  fifty-five  centimetres.  Your  vault  being  traced  at  D} 
you  must  reserve  at  E  a  resting-place  of  at  least  twenty 
centimetres,  to  receive  the  first  keystones  of  the  vault  '  sum- 
mers.' Then  it  is  well  to  give  on  the  side  of  the  earth  a 
greater  projection,  in  order  to  firmly  set  the  sub-basement ; 
this  projection  being  of  five  centimetres,  we  shall  have  at  F 
sixty  centimetres  in  thickness,  and  at  G  eighty  centimetres  at 
least ;  for  the  wall  which  is  to  be  erected  must  not  bear 
upon  the  oblique  layers  of  the  vault,  otherwise  it  would  not 
have  a  good  seat,  and  would  be,  as  we  say,  '  starved,'  or 
reduced  in  thickness  by  the  arch  which  would  penetrate  it  as 
in  the  tracing  I. 

"  But  come  into  this  other  cellar,  which  belongs  to  the  oldest 
part  of  the  chateau,  and  is  built  with  excellent  stone.  The 
builder  did  not  wish  to  lose  any  space  on  the  interior,  and, 
building   with   hewn    stone,   wras    anxious    not   to    waste    the 


PAUL'S   COURSE  OF  PRACTICAL    CONSTRUCTION.       65 


material.  What  did  he  do?  (Fig.  10.)  He  only  gave  his  cellar 
wall  the  same  thickness  as  that  of  the  ground-floor.  He 
placed,  at  intervals,  large  corbels  at  sixty  centimetres  above 
the  soil ;   on  these  he  keyed  in  arches   with  a  projection  of 


,!.»»"'        • 


Fio.  10. 


twenty-five  centimetres,  and  on  these  arches,  which  replace 
the  surplus  of  thickness,  or  lining-wall,  of  which  I  spoke  just 
now,  he  keyed  in  his  vault.  This  drawing  in  perspective 
will  enable  us  to  seize  this  system  of  building.  Thus  the 
upper  wall  leaves  the  vault  independent,  and  rises  upright 
on  its  lower  facing. 

"You  understand,  do  you  not?  "Well,  let  us  examine  tin's 
little  staircase,  which,  perhaps,  you  have  not  observed  atten- 
tively. It  is  four  old-fashioned  feet  in  width,  or  one  metre 
thirty  centimetres;  a  sufficient  width  to  carry  down  butts  of 
wine.     See  here  (Fig.  11);  the  creeping-vault  is  composed  of 


66 


THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 


as  many  superincumbent  arches  as  there  are  steps ;  it  looks 
well,  is  solid,  and  easy  to  build.  In  short,  where  stone  steps 
are  established,  on  these  are  placed  successively  a  ■wooden 
centring,  which,  of  course,  juts  out  at  each  step,  and  on  this 
centring  an  arch  is  placed,  being  built  rapidly,  as  the  stones 


Fig.  11. 


are  already  cut.  Thus  the  arches  follow"  the  profile  of  the 
steps;  and  the  centring  being  carried,  after  the  closing  of 
each  arch,  upon  the  following  step,  commencing  with  the 
lowest,  two  men  can  key  in  five  or  six  of  these  arches  in  a 


PAUL'S   COURSE   OF  PRACTICAL   CONSTRUCTION.       67 

day.  If  there  are  twelve  steps,  this  creeping-vault  may 
therefore  be  closed  in  two  days.  You  see,  this  construction 
must  be  indicated  in  perspective,  and  geometrically,  in  your 
to-day's  resume,  A  and  B. 

"  Let  us  ascend  to  the  ground-floor ;  observe  how,  on  the 
interior,  the  walls  betray  efflorescences  which  resemble 
carded  cotton.  That  is  saltpetre,  which  is  formed  on  the 
interior  of  the  itone,  and  which,  by  the  dampness  of  the 
soil,  crystallizes  on  the  facing.  Saltpetre  alters  the  stone, 
ends  by  gnawing  it,  and  eats  off  all  the  paint  which  is  put 
on  the  interior  wall.  Waterproof  coatings  are  made  to 
aiTL'st  the  effect  of  saltpetre,  but  these  only  retard  its 
appearance,  and  do  not  destroy  the  evil,  and  the  coatings 
soon  fall  like  a  crust.  It  is  necessary,  then,  especially 
when  a  construction  is  made  in  the  country,  to  prevent  the 
dampness  of  the  soil  from  ascending  into  the  thickness  of 
the  walls,  and  to  arrest  it  at  the  level  of  the  soil.  At- 
tempts have  sometimes  been  made  to  interpose  a  bed  of 
bitumen  between  the  stones  of  the  sub-basement,  at  the 
place  of  the  layer  of  mortar,  to  prevent  the  stones  from 
sucking  in  the  moisture,  which  is  called  '  capillary  attrac- 
tion.' But  this  method  is  a  very  inefficient  one ;  the  bitu- 
men escapes  under  the  weight,  because  it  does  not  grow 
hard  enough  to  resist  it,  or  it  changes  and  combines  with 
the  lime.  The  best  way  is  to  interpose  a  layer  of  slate, 
held  in  the  bed  of  mortar,  between  the  first  lower  strata  of 


68  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

the  sub-basement.  The  slate  entirely  arrests  the  effect  of 
capillary  attraction,  and  the  moisture  cannot  ascend  into  the 
walls. 

"  Observe  now  this  front  wall  on  the  court.  It  forms  a 
sort  of  hump  at  the  height  of  the  first-floor  staging.  We 
say,  therefore,  that  this  wall  '  bulges.'  Instead  of  main- 
taining itself  vertically,  as  ought  to  be  the  case,  it  is 
rounded.  Why  ?  Because  it  has  been  pushed  by  a  force 
acting  from  the  interior  towards  the  exterior.  What  is  this 
force  ?  It  might  be  a  vault,  but  there  is  no  vault  on  the 
ground-floor.  It  can  only,  therefore,  be  the  staging.  You 
scarcely  understand,  at  first,  how  a  staging,  or  flooring, 
which  is  horizontal,  can  push  it  out  of  place ;  for  in  order 
to  push  it,  it  must  be  supposed  that  the  flooring  stretches, 
in  a  certain  sense,  which  is  not  possible.  But  see  what 
happens.  Formerly,  in  order  to  establish  a  flooring,  thick 
beams  were  laid  from  one  wall  to  the  other,  and  upon 
these,  lighter  pieces  of  wood,  called  joists  ;  then  these  joists 
were  overlaid  with  a  bed  of  earth,  gravel,  or  sand,  and 
above  this"  an  area  of  mortar  was  formed,  to  receive  the 
pavement.  All  this  is  very  heavy.  Well,  as  a  piece  of 
wood,  even  if  it  be  very  square,  bends,  after  a  while,  under 
its  own  weight,  that  is  to  say,  straight  as  it  is,  becomes 
bent,  so  much  the  more  will  it  become  bent  under  a 
heavy  burden.  The  more  it  bends,  the  more  pressure  it  ex- 
ercises on   the  interior  facing  of  the  walls  in  which   it   has 


PAUL'S   COURSE   OF  PRACTICAL    CONSTRUCTION.       69 


been  fitted.  It  is  this  pressure  on  the  interior  facing  which 
tends  to  push  the  wall  outwards.  But  if,  as  here,  to  relieve 
the  burden  of  the  beams,  you  place  underneath  wooden 
trusses,  this  pushing  effect  is  still  more  obvious,  because 
the  arm  of  the  lever  is   longer.    (Fig.   12.)     A  drawing  will 


A. 


...._ 

K 

I 

Fig.  12. 


make  this  clear.  Let  A  be  a  section  of  the  wall,  or,  if  you 
prefer,  its  thickness.  If  the  beam  bends  at  the  line  CD, 
it  produces  a  pressure  at  D,  which  is  betrayed  by  a  push- 
ing out  at  F,  and  the  rounding  of  the  wall  indicated  by 
the  dotted  curves.  Suppose  that,  in  place  of  the  truss  E, 
we  have  a  stone  corbel ;  the  effect  produced  will  be  the 
same,  but  less  powerful,  unless  the  end  of  this  corbel  re- 
ceives the  whole  thickness  of  the  wall,  as  I  show  you  in  /, 


yo  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

and  unless  this  end  K  is  so  weighted  that  the  weight  neu- 
tralizes the  pressure  caused  by  the  beam  at  the  extremity 
L.  This  has  not  been  done  here,  where  a  corbel  has  been 
put  in  place  of  the  wooden  truss.  This  corbel  has  but  a 
slight  hold  in  the  wall,  and  the  wall,  built  of  small  materials, 
with  bad  masonry,  has  not  sufficient  consistency  to  resist 
the  pushing  caused  by  the  rounding  of  the  beams. 

"  But,  you  will  ask, .  why  is  this  effect  produced  at  the 
height  of  the  flooring  of  the  first  floor,  and  not  above  ?  Be- 
cause, by  the  effect  of  the  bulging  which  we  observe  here, 
the  wall  is  inclined,  above,  towards  the  interior,  and  it  has 
thus  jammed  in  the  second  flooring,  its  facings  being  placed, 
by  their  inclination  itself,  perpendicularly  in  the  curved 
direction  of  the  upper  beams,  as  I  show  you  in  M,  where 
the  effect  is  exaggerated  so  that  it  may  strike  you  more 
forcibly. 

"  You  see  that  each  detail  is  worthy  of  attention,  and  that 
in  building  you  must  take  account  of  everything. 

"  In  all  things,  the  only  way  to  avoid  an  evil  is  to  analyze 
and  search  for  its  cause,  and  to  determine  its  effects;  that 
is  why  it  does  not  suffice,  in  order  to  be  a  good  builder,  to 
become  familiar  with  the  rules  of  construction,  which  cannot 
provide  for  all  cases;  you  must  see  and  observe  much,  and 
ascertain  the  defective  points  in  old  buildings ;  in  the  same 
way  physicians  learn  to  define  a  good  physical  constitution 
by  studying  maladies  and  their  causes.     We  only  appreciate, 


PAUL'S   COURSE   OF  PRACTICAL   CONSTRUCTION.        7 1 

most  often,  what  is  good  by  a  knowledge  of  what  is  bad; 
so  much  so,  that,  in  the  absence  of  the  bad,  we  can  admit 
that  the  crood  exists.  An  old  master  architect,  who  desired 
to  assist  me  with  his  advice,  when  1  was  about  your  age, 
often  said  to  me,  '  My  friend,  I  can  tell  you  what  you 
must  avoid  in  the  art  of  building;  as  for  telling  you  in 
what  the  good  and  beautiful  consists,  that  is  a  matter  for 
you  to  find  out.  If  you  were  born  an  architect,  you  will 
easily  discover  it ;  if  not,  all  that  I  could  show  you,  the 
examples  which  I  should  display  to  you,  would  not  give 
you  talent " ;  and  he  spoke  wisely.  A  sight  of  the  finest 
achievements  of  the  art  may  pervert  the  minds  of  students, 
if,  in  showing  them  to  them,  the  master  does  not  explain 
to  them  how  the  authors  of  these  works  succeeded  in  mak- 
ing them  beautiful,  because  they  avoided  falling  into  such 
and  such  faults. 

"But  that  is  enough  to  fill  up  your  day's  report.  Make 
fair  copies  of  these  sketches,  in  drawing  it  up,  and  we  will 
look  it  all  over  this  evening." 


72  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 


CHAPTEE    VI. 

PAUL   IS   INDUCED   TO   ESTABLISH   CERTAIN   DIFFERENCES  BETWEEN 
MORALITY   AND    HOUSE-BUILDING. 

HEN  Paul's  report  of  the  day's  lesson  was  read, 
\\  that  evening,  in  the  family  circle,  M.  de  Gan- 
delau  interrupted  the  reading  at  the  following 
phrase,  incorrectly  set  down :  "  Good  is  only  the  absence  of 
evil." 

"  Oil !  oh  ! "  said  the  father ;  "  charity  is  something  besides 
the  absence  of  evil.  If  you  give  nothing  to  the  poor  man 
who  begs  bread  of  you;  if,  knowing  how  to  swim,  you  do 
not  try  to  save  a  man  who  is  drowning,  you  do  not  do  ill, 
neither  do  you  do  well." 

"  It  is  not  quite  what  I  said  to  Paul,"  replied  the  cousin, 
smiling.  "  Apropos  of  faults  observed  in  constructions,  I  said, 
I  think,  that  good  is  the  absence  of  evil ;  that  is,  that,  in 
building,  and  perhaps  in  many  other  things  which  belong  to 
purely  material  order,  to  do  well  is  to  avoid  that  which  is 
bad.  I  confess,  besides,  that  I  have  not  sufficiently  devel- 
oped  my  idea. 

"  Two  things  are  necessary  to  become  a  good  builder ;   an 


PAUL  ESTABLISHES   CERTAIN  DIFFERENCES.        73 


exact  mind,  —  which  belongs  to  the  moral  nature  of  each  of 
USj  —  and  experience,  which  is  acquired. 

"  The  observation  and  experience  which  are  the  result,  aid 
us  to  recognize  what  is  bad,  and  avoid  it;  but  if,  in  spite 
of  this,  one  is  not  endowed  with  an  exact  mind,  naturally  reg- 
ulated, experience,  while  enabling  one  to  avoid  what  is  bad, 
does  not  of  itself  suffice  to  discover  what  is  good. 

"Besides,  if  in  morality  good  is  absolute  and  independent 
of  circumstances,  it  is  not  so  in  building.  What  is  good  in 
one  place  is  bad  in  another,  by  reason  of  the  climate,  habits, 
and  of  the  quality  of  materials  and  their  adaptability  to  this 
or  that  local  circumstance.  If  it  is  good,  for  instance,  to 
cover  a  roof  with  slate  in  a  moist  and  temperate  climate,  it 
would  not  be  so  in  a  hot,  dry,  and  windy  climate.  Wooden 
buildings  are  excellent  on  some  sites,  bad  on  others.  If  it 
is  good  in  dwelling-houses  to  open  wide  doors,  and  glaze 
large  surfaces,  in  the  northern  climates,  because  the  light  is 
dim,  this  is  bad  in  southern  countries,  where  the  light  is 
intense,  and  where  the  heat  must  be  guarded  against.  If, 
then,  you  can  make  a  code  of  morality,  you  cannot  establish 
absolute  rules  in  building ;  since  experience,  reasoning,  and 
reflection  must  always  intervene,  when  a  building  is  under- 
taken. Young  architects  have  often  asked  me  what  was  the 
best  authority  to  consult  on  building.  I  have  told  them 
there  was  none,  because  a  work  could  not  provide  for  all 
cases,  for  all  the  special  circumstances  which  come  up  in  an 


74  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

architect's  career.  A  text-book  furnishes  rules ;  but  ninety- 
nine  times  out  of  a  hundred  you  find  yourself  dealing  with  the 
exception,  and  have  no  use  for  the  rule.  A  book  on  building 
is  good  to  accustom  the  mind  to  conceive  and  accomplish 
according  to  certain  methods ;  it  gives  you  the  means  of 
solving  the  problems  proposed,  but  does  not  solve  them,  or 
at  least  solves  only  one  in  a  thousand.  It  is,  then,  for  in- 
telligence and  observation  to  supply  in  these  thousand  cases 
that  which  the  rule  could  not  foresee." 

Third  Lesson. 

"Yesterday,"  said  the  cousin  to  Paul,  when  the  latter  en- 
tered his  room,  "  we  visited  the  cellar  and  ground-floor ;  to- 
day we  will  go  through  the  garrets  of  the  chateau.  But  first 
I  am  going  to  show  you  what  is  called  a  rib  of  framework. 
The  most  simple  rib  is  composed  of  four  pieces  of  wood : 
two  rafters,  one  tie-beam,  and  one  king-post  (Fig.  13).  The 
two  inclined  pieces,  A,  are  the  rafters,  the  horizontal  piece  B, 
the  tie-beam,  and  the  vertical  piece  C,  the  king-post.  The 
upper  ends  of  the  rafters  unite  in  the  king-post,  as  I  show 
you  in  the  drawing  D ;  that  is  to  say,  with  the  aid  of  two 
tenons  E,  which  enter  the  two  mortises  F,  and  of  a  shoulder 
G,  which  causes  all  the  wood-pieces  to  .fit  in  the  notch  1", 
which  we  call  '  franking.'  The  lower  ends  of  the  rafters  unite 
in  the  same  way  with  the  two  extremities  of  the  tie-beam, 


PAUL  ESTABLISHES   CERTAIN  DIFFERENCES.        7$ 

as  is  seen  in  H.  The  king-post  is  also  united  to  the  middle 
of  the  tie-beam  by  a  tenon,  but  loosely,  and  without  pressing 
upon  the  tie-beam.  The  tenons  having  entered  the  mortises, 
wooden  pins  are  driven  into  the  holes  which  I  point  out  to 


you,  so  as  to  hold  the  whole  well  together.  The  more  you 
press  upon  the  summit  31,  the  more  you  tend  to  turn  away 
the  two  rafters  from  the  foot ;  but  these  being  fixed  at  the  two 
ends  of  the  tie-beam,  tighten  the  latter  like  the  chord  of  an 
arc.  Then  this  tie-beam  is  the  less  likely  to  bend  the  more 
it  is  strained,  and  the  king-post  is  only  there  to  hold  it  in 
the  middle,  and  to  unite  the  head  of  the  rafters.  But  these 
rafters  may  bend  under  the  weight  of  the  roof,  from  M  to  N\ 
therefore  two  trusses,  0  1\  are  added  to  arrest  this  bending, 
by  carrying  the  weight  upon  the  king-post,  so  that  the  latter 


y6  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

is  in  its  turn  strained  from  M  to  P.  The  wood  cannot 
stretch,  the  point  P  is  fixed,  and  therefore  the  two  points  0 
are  also  fixed. 

"  Now  that  you  know  what  the  most  simple  rib  is,  let  us 
go  up  to  the  roof." 

This  roof  was  old,  had  been  repaired  and  consolidated  many 
times,  and  formed  a  piece  of  disordered  carpentry  work  diffi- 
cult to  comprehend. 

"  Formerly,"  said  the  cousin,  "  more  than  a  century  ago, 
carpentry  work  was  done  as  you  see  it  here ;  each  rafter  car- 
rying a  rib ;  that  is  to  say,  each  of  the  rafters  composed  a  rib, 
excepting  a  tie-beam  which  was  only  placed  at  intervals. 
Then  the  wood  was  plenty,  and  there  was  no  need  of  econ- 
omizing it.  Now  it  is  less  plenty,  and  it  is  difficult  to  pro- 
cure a  large  number  of  pieces  of  considerable  size.  The  fine 
old  forests  which  covered  the  soil  of  France  have  been  fool- 
ishly wasted,  and  extensive  woods  of  oak  are  rare.  They  must, 
then,  be  economized.  So  it  has  become  usual  to  establish 
firm  ribs,  at  a  distance  from  each  other  of  about  four  metres. 
On  these  ribs  purlins  have  been  placed;  purlins  are  the  hori- 
zontal pieces  which  you  see  on  this  side ;  and  on  these  rafters, 
more  or  less  long,  have  been  fixed,  to  receive  the  lath-work 
of  the  tiling  and  the  bottom  of  the  slate.  But  all  roof-car- 
pentry ought  to  be  established  on  sleepers,  which  are  those 
horizontal  pieces  that  repose  on  the  head  of  the  walls, 
which  bind  and  isolate  the  tie-beams  from  the  masonry;   for 


PAUL  ESTABLISHES   CERTAIN  DIFFERENCES.        77 


you  must  observe  that  wood  is  indefinitely  preserved  dry  by 
the  free  air,  but  decays  rapidly  in  contact  with  a  moist  body 
like  stone.  You  see  this  piece  of  wood  partly  in  contact  with 
the  masonry ;  it  is  half  reduced  to  rottenness,  whilst  the 
rafter  above,  which  is  in  the  free  air,  has  a  dry  appearance, 
and  is  as  pure  from  decay  as  if  it  were  new. 

"  In  former  times  they  made  the  floorings  by  placing  joists 
on  beams  and  the  walls.  These  joists  and  beams  remained 
visible,  as  you  can  still  see  in  the  kitchen  and  the  large  room 
on  the  ground-floor  which  serves  as  a  lumber-room.  The  air 
circulated  among  these  woods,  and  they  might  last  for  centu- 
ries. But  it  was  discovered  that  these  visible  pieces  were 
not  pleasant  to  the  sight,  that  they  were  not  clean,  and  per- 
mitted spiders  to  weave  their  webs  in  their  interstices.  Then 
they  nailed  laths  under  these  joists,  and  covered  the  lath- 
work  with  a  coating  which  we  call  the  ceiling.  The  wood 
being  thus  shut  in  and  deprived  of  air,  became  overheated, 
as  the  carpenters  say,  that  is,  it  fermented,  and  rottenness 
soon  attacked  it;  so  quickly,  that  the  floorings  with  visi- 
ble joists,  which  had  resisted  the  action  of  time  for  centu- 
ries, fell  from  rottenness  very  soon  after  being  closed  up.  T 
will  add  that  formerly,  before  using  wood  in  building,  they 
took  the  precaution  of  leaving  it  out  of  doors  for  several 
years,  to  submit  it  to  the  action  of  the  rain  and  the  sun. 
They  even  bathed  it  for  a  certain  time  in  water,  to  purge  it 
of  sap,  —  sap  being  the  ferment  which  causes  the  decay  of  the 


78  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

wood.  When  the  wood,  stripped  and  cut  in  broad  squares, 
had  remained  in  the  open  air  rive  or  six  years,  it  was  used. 
But  we  live  in  faster  times ;  and  they  now  often  use  wood 
which  has  not  been  a  year  cut.  It  is  not  dry,  retains  its 
sap,  and  if  it  is  then  closed  up  it  ferments  rapidly,  so  that 
in  a  few  years  the  largest  beams  become  rotten.  Prudent 
architects  hesitate  to  employ  wood  for  floorings.  Still  its 
use,  even  in  a  state  of  imperfect  dessication,  would  not  have 
grave  results,  if  it  were  not  closed  up  between  coatings.  The 
worst  that  could  happen  would  be  cracks  and  roundings. 
.They  would  dry  in  use,  as  they  would  in  the  open  air. 

"  There  is,  then,  no  great  inconvenience  in  employing  fresh- 
ly cut  wood  for  roof  carpentry,  which  is  usually  left  open. 
It  would  dry  in  its  place.  It  would  become  distorted,  but 
would  not  decay. 

"As  we  should  not  be  able  to  find  perfectly  dry  wood  for 
your  sister's  house,  we  will  make  the  floorings  of  visible 
beams  ;  and  we  will  try,  by  simple  and  not  expensive  means, 
to  give  them  an  agreeable  aspect. 

"  But  you  must  know  something  of  the  various  qualities  of 
woods.  I  will  not  tell  you  that  nature  has  nourished  these 
great  trees  which  we  use,  for  our  pleasure  or  our  needs. 
Nature,  I  imagine,  is  scarcely  occupied  in  knowing  whether 
the  oak  or  the  spruce  suits  our  purposes ;  and  if  human 
intelligence  has  known  how  to  derive  advantage  from  the 
materials  which    increase   before   our  eyes,    it  is   after  having 


PAUL  ESTABLISHES   CERTAIN  DIFFERENCES.        79 


recognized  and  established  their  properties  by  experience. 
Unhappily,  it  would  seem  that  the  results  of  this  experience 
do  not  tend  to  increase ;  and  to  see  the  way  in  which  wood 
is  usually  employed  nowadays,  it  might  be  confessed  that 
we  are  less  instructed  than  our  ancestors,  or  that  we  have 
lost  the  habit  of  observation  with  which  they  were  familiar. 
"  Wood,  being  a  composition  of  fibres  more  or  less  loose  or 
compact,  possesses  a  power  of  considerable  resistance  to  a 
pressure  which  is  exercised  lengthwise  on  these  fibres ;  but 
it  bends  or  breaks  easily,  on  the  contrary,  under  a  press- 
ure exercised  crosswise  on  these  same  fibres.  Tims,  a  log  of 
ten  centimetres  diameter  and  a  metre  long,  placed  upright, 
will  support  a  pressure  of  twenty  thousand  kilograms,*  with- 
out breaking  or  bending ;  whilst  this  weight  would  break  or 
bend  the  log,  if  it  were  laid  horizontally,  as  easily  as  you 
would  break  a  rose-stem  under  your  foot.  Take  a  bit  of 
good  healthy  straw  ten  centimetres  long,  and  put  your  finger 
on  one  end,  holding  it  vertically  on  a  table ;  you  will  have 
to  press  hard  to  bend  it,  whilst  the  slightest  pressure  upon 
it  when  laid  horizontally  will  flatten  it.  The  straw  is  a  tube. 
The  tree  is  composed  of  a  series  of  tubes  one  within  an- 
other. The  more  numerous  these  tubes  are,  —  the  closer  to- 
gether and  finer  they  are,  —  the  more  will  the  trunk  resist 
pressure,  whether  in  the  length  or  the  thickness.  But  this 
shows  us  that,  in  order  to   preserve  the  quality  of  resistance 

*  A  kilogram  being  a  little  over  two  pounds  three  ounces. 


8o 


THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 


in  wood,  you  must  use  it  as  nature  gives  it ;  and  thus  it  was 
used  formerly.  Each  piece  of  carpentry  was  taken  from  a  bit 
of  tree  more  or  less  thick,  but  they  did  not  saw  the  trees  in 
their  length  to  make  several  pieces  of  carpentry  ;  for  the  core 
A 


r1' 


! 


Fig.  14. 

being  harder  and  more  compact  than  the  sap-wood  (which  is 
the  spongy  envelope  placed  under  the  bark),  and  the  concen- 
tric layers  of  the  wood  being  the  more  compact  and  resist- 
ing as  they  approach  the  core,  if  you  saw  a  tree  in  two  in 
its  length,  one  of  the  sides  is  much  more  resisting  than  the 
other,  the  equilibrium  is  broken,  and  under  a  weight  a  bend- 
ing is  easily  produced.  The  exterior  layers,  being  the  most 
recent,  are  more  spongy  and  loose  in  tissue  than  the  older 
layers  near  the  core ;  consequently  the  dessication,  or  drying, 
causes  in  these  exterior  layers  a  more  considerable  contraction 
than  in  the  internal  layers;  hence,  the  bending  (Fig.  14).     Let 


PAUL   ESTABLISHES   CERTAIN  DIFFERENCES.        8 1 


A  be  a  piece  of  sawed  wood ;  the  layers  B  are  harder  and 
more  compact  than  those,  C,  which  contain  more  moisture  and 
have  softer  fibres.  In  drying,  this  piece  of  wood  will  there- 
fore produce  a  concavity  on  the  exterior  side,  as  I  show  you 
in  D.  If  the  wood  is  left  entire,  as  in  E,  the  effects  will 
neutralize  each  other,  and  the  piece  will  remain  straight. 


Fig.  15. 


"  Look  at  this  old-fashioned  carpentry,  the  rafters  of  which 
carry  trusses  (Fig.  15).  The  interties  A  were  squared  in  pieces 
of  oak,  the  core  being  in  the  centre.     It  is  the  same  with  the 


82  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

rafters  B,  the  tie-beams  C,  the  false  tie-beams  D,  the  king- 
posts E,  tie-pieces  F,  and  the  jambs  G ;  all  these  parts  have 
preserved  their  rigidity,  and  neither  of  them  has  bent,  be- 
cause they  were  used  dry  and  in  unsawed  bits.  Look,  on  the 
other  hand,  at  this  rib  J,  of  a  recent  date ;  it  is  bent,  not  so 
much  because  of  the  weight  of  the  rafters  it  bears,  as  because 
it  is  sawed  and  the  carpenter  has  unskilfully  placed  the  core 
on  the  inside.  Had  he  done  the  contrary,  had  the  core  been 
placed  on  the  side  of  the  rafting,  the  rib  would  probably  not 
have  bent,  and  perhaps  it  would  have  even  acquired  stiffness, 
and  become  convex  on  its  external  side.  But  carpenters  are 
men,  and  do  not  like  to  make  work  for  themselves  when  they 
can  avoid  it.  He  who  placed  this  rib  has  found  it  more  con- 
venient to  place  it  according  to  his  plane  of  sawing,  rather 
than  turn  it  and  put  this  plane  under  the  rafters. 

"  Considering  this  quality  of  wood,  especially  of  oak,  the  in- 
ternal fibres  of  which  are  harder  and  closer  together  than  the 
outer  layers,  when  they  wish  to  place  a  piece  of  wood  hori- 
zontally on  two  points  of  support  or  piles,  and  give  it  all  the 
resistance  of  which  it  is  susceptible,  to  carry  a  weight  acting 
on  its  middle,  they  saw  it  in  two  in  its  length,  and  turning 
the  faces  to  the  exterior,  pin  together  the  two  pieces,  as  I 
show  you  here  (Fig.  16).  Then  the  cores  are 'on  the  outside, 
and  as  the  two  pieces  tend  to  curve  and  thus  to  form  two 
convex  surfaces,  as  you  see  in  A  (Fig.  17),  if  they  are  well 
fastened  with  pins   fortified  by  good   plates,  they  are   forced 


PAUL  ESTABLISHES   CERTAIN  DIFFERENCES.        83 

to  remain  straight;  the  tendency  to  bend  in  one  neutralizing 
the  same  tendency  in  the  other,  the  two  contrary  efforts  tend 
to  give  greater  stiffness  to  the  piece;  as,  if  you  take  a  wood 


=] 


Fig.  17. 


naturally  somewhat  bent,  and  place  these  two  pieces  so  that 
the   concavity  shall  be  underneath,   after   having   overlapped 


Fig.  IS. 


them,  putting  the  end  of  one  against  the  head  of  the  other, 
you  will  give  to  this  piece  of  wood  all  the  resisting  power 
of  which  it  is  susceptible. 


84  THE  STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

"  Couplings,  and  all  double  pieces,  must  be  disposed  accord- 
ing to  this  method.  Here,  for  instance  (Fig.  18),  you  see  that 
they  have  rightly  placed  a  pair  of  couplings,  by  putting  the 
sawed  parts  on  the  outside,  to  replace  a  decayed  tie-beam. 
We  call  pieces  of  wood  which,  usually  double,  hold  fast  two 
or  several  pieces  of  carpentry,  couplings.  These  couplings  A, 
by  means  of  notches  in  the  middle  of  the  wood,  hold  the 
rafters  B,  the  king-post  C,  and  the  two  trusses  D.  Iron  pins 
with  screw-nuts  exactly  clasp  the  notches  of  the  couples  as 
jaws  would  do,  against  the  pieces  which  they  are  designed  to 
keep  in  place.  But  this  is  enough  for  to-day,  and  you  will 
have  enough  to  do  to  write  out,  between  this  and  evening, 
our  lesson  in  carpentry." 


PLANTING    THE  HOUSE.  85 


CHAPTER    VII. 

PLANTING  THE  HOUSE,  AND  OPERATIONS  ON  THE  GROUND. 

^^fifS^rEXT  morning  a  letter  was  received  from  Madame 

Marie  X ,  dated  at  Naples,  in  which  she  ex- 

m  pressed  the  liveliest  and  most  patriotic  appre- 
hensions  concerning  late  events.  Paul's  sister  begged  the 
family  to  join  her  at  Naples ;  her  husband  could  not  just 
then  return  to  France ;  the  business  which  called  him  to 
Constantinople  would  brook  no  delay,  and  forced  him  to 
embark  at  once.     The  letter  closed  as  follows :  — 

"  We  have  received  Paul's  plan  ;  it  seems  to  us  to  have  been 
somewhat  assisted  by  our  cousin.  It  would  please  us  botli  very 
much,  if  ever  it  could  be  put  into  execution  ;  but  who  could  now, 
in  our  poor  country,  think  of  building  1  Come  rather  and  be  with 
us  here." 

"Well,"  said  M.  de  Gandelau,  after  the  letter  had  been 
read,  "  you  see  your  plan  is  approved ;  let  us  proceed  without 
delay  to  its  execution.  If  Messieurs  the  Prussians  come  as 
far  as  this  and  burn  our  old  house,  according  to  their  custom, 
they  will  not  burn  the  walls  of  a  building  scarcely  begun,  and 


86  THE  STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

what  we  have  spent  in  erecting  it  will  not  go  into  their 
pockets." 

The  cousin,  aided  by  Paul,  who  made  the  calculations,  — 
he  had  never  done  so  much  before,  —  counted  up  the  esti- 
mates, which  reached  the  figure  of  175,000  francs  (835,000). 
The  earthwork  and  masonry  entered  into  the  foreseen  expense 
at  85,000  francs. 

Papa  Branchu  was  called. 

"  He  's  the  right  sort  of  man,  your  father,"  he  said  to  Paul, 
when  it  was  agreed  that  they  should  begin  next  day ;  "  he 
gives  people  work  when  good  workmen  are  turned  away 
everywhere,  and  old  fellows  like  me,  who  cannot  fight,  are 
going  to  starve  all  winter.  I  'm  going  to  drink  his  health 
with  Jean  Godard,  the  carpenter,  who  will  be  mighty  wTell 
satisfied  all  the  same." 

The  rest  of  the  day  was  occupied  in  putting  the  principal 
numbers  on  the  plan  in  order  to  be  able  to  trace  the  exca- 
vations. 

Early  next  morning  Papa  Branchu  appeared  on  the  ground, 
armed  with  cords,  pickets,  nails,  pins,  a  large  square,  and  a 
water-level,  and  was  speedily  joined  by  Paul  and  his  cousin. 

"  You  see,"  said  the  cousin  to  Paul,  "  that  the  numbers  on 
the  plan  indicate  the  distances  between  the  axes  of  the  walls. 
Consulting  them,  we  will  plant  these  axes  on  the  ground,  by 
the  aid  of  cords  attached  to  what  we  call  'pins,'  which  are 
composed  of  two  stakes  fixed  solidly  in   the   earth,  and  of  a 


tVi-'r 


:  .  '.-■••• .         •  •  >\;t»y. 


Fig.   19.  —  TRACING  OUT   THE   SITE.  —  Page  87. 


PLANTING    THE  HOUSE.  87 

traverse.  The  direction  of  one  of  the  axes  beincr  decided 
according  to  the  aspect  we  wish  to  choose,  the  disposition 
of  the  others  will  follow  according  to  the  distances  sketched 
on  the  plan,  and  the  measurement  of  the  square."     (Fig.  19.) 

The  cousin  soon  decided  on  the  line  of  axis  A,  for  the 
dining  and  billiard  rooms,  according  to  the  desired  aspect. 
Then,  on  this  first  line,  he  established  another  at  right 
angles,  by  means  of  a  small  graphometer,  which  was  the 
line  of  axis  for  the  drawing-room  and  the  hall.  These  fixed, 
the  others  were  disposed  by  means  of  the  numbers  previ- 
ously written  on  the  plan.  The  axes  of  the  main  walls 
were  thus  traced  on  the  ground  by  cords  fastened  to  pins. 

As  it  was  necessary  to  establish  cellars  under  the  whole 
of  the  main  building,  the  cousin  contented  himself  with 
ordering  Papa  Branchu  to  dig  the  whole  ground  at  a  dis- 
tance of  one  metre  outside  of  the  lines  of  the  perimeter. 
Two  diggers,  with  their  pickaxes,  set  to  work  to  trace  out 
the  excavation. 

"  If  you  find,  which  is  pretty  certain,"  said  he  to  the 
digger,  "  rock  of  a  slight  depth  and  of  good  quality,  be  care- 
ful'and  not  botch  it;  work  it  like  ashlar;  we  will  make  use 
of  it,  and  pay  you  accordingly.  If  you  find  any  blocks,  get 
them  out  whole,  and  put  them  aside,  so  that  the  best  pieces 
may  be  used.  To-morrow  or  next  day  we  will  give  you  the 
plan  of  the  cellars.  Meanwhile  supply  yourself  with  bricks, 
lime,  and   sand ;  you   know   that   in   this    country  it   is   pin- 


88  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

dent  to  look  out  in  advance  in  order  to  have  these  materi- 
als in  time.  We  are  in  September,  and  our  cellars  must 
be  finished  at  least  before  the  first  frosts." 

"  So  now,"  continued  the  cousin,  speaking  to  Paul,  as 
soon  as  they  returned,  "I  name  you  inspector  of  works,  and 
these  will  be  your  duties.  You  will  come  upon  the  ground 
every  morning,  and  at  first  will  see  to  it  that  the  orders 
given  in  your  presence  are  strictly  carried  out.  Thus  you 
will  have  to  take  account  of  the  quantity  of  stone  taken 
from  the  excavation,  have  it  piled  neatly  on  one  metre  in 
thickness,  two  metres  in  width,  and  an  indefinite  length, 
according  to  the  production  of  the  quarry.  Having  thus 
each  day  ascertained  the  augmentation  of  the  cube,  we  shall 
be  sure  that  nothing  has  been  abstracted  from  it.  You  will 
have  a  memorandum-book  in  your  pocket,  in  which  you 
will  set  down  this  daily  increase,  and  you  will  have  Papa 
Branchu  initial  each  page.  This  is  only,  for  the  moment,  a 
supervision ;  but  your  duties  will  become  more  intricate  as 
fast  as  the  work  advances.  If  materials  arrive,  you  will  take 
note  of  the  quantity,  in  number,  if  they  are  bricks,  and  by 
the  cube,  if  they  are  sand  and  lime.  For  this  purpose  I 
will  have  brought  a  laborer's  box,  a  metre  by  a  metre  and 
a  half  high ;  this,  being  filled,  will  therefore  hold  a  half  a 
metre. 

"  You  will  say  to  Papa  Branchu  that  he  must  erect  a  shed 
with  planks,  which  shall  serve  as  a  depository  for  his  tools, 


PLANTING    THE  HOUSE.  89 

and  shelter  the  lime  under  cover  until  it  is  used  up.  If  we 
had  a  regular  contractor,  or  one  with  whom  a  bargain  had 
been  made,  we  should  not  have  to  bother  ourselves  about 
the  quantity  or  cube  of  the  materials  brought  on  the  ground ; 
but  here  we  are  obliged  to  employ  elementary  means,  for 
Papa  Branchu  cannot  make  advances  of  funds.  We  will  give 
him  the  materials  we  purchase,  or  which  come  from  our  re- 
sources, on  account.  You  perceive  that  these  materials  must 
not  be  taken  away  or  wasted.  "We  only  pay  him  for  the 
actual  work.  This  requires  on  our  part  more  attention  and 
supervision,  but  we  can  be  certain  at  least  that  we  shall  not 
be  deceived  in  the  quality  of  material  by  a  contractor  who 
would,  perhaps,  be  interested  in  furnishing  us  with  stuff  in- 
ferior to  that  which  we  had  bargained  for. 

"  We  will  make  a  similar  arrangement  with  the  carpenter. 
Your  father  tells  me  that  he  has  some  pieces  of  oak,  cut 
within  a  year  or  two,  and  stowed  away  at  Noire t's  farm. 
Let  us  go  and  look  at  them,  and  mark  those  which  we  select 
to  use.  Our  numbered  plan  gives  the  lengths  of  the  floor- 
ing-joists." 

As  they  passed  along  beside  the  stream  which  trickled 
through  the  little  valley,  the  cousin  attentively  examined  its 
banks,  and  every  now  and  then  rapped  the  sides  with  the 
ferule  of  his  cane. 

"  What  do  you  see  there  ? "  said  Paul. 

"  I  think  that  we  shall  find  good  material  here  for  making 


90  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

the  cellar  vaults.  You  see  this  yellowish  stone,  as  porous  as 
a  sponge.  It  is  a  present  which  the  modest  little  stream 
makes  us.  It  carries  in  its  waters  carbonate  of  lime,  which 
each  day  incrusts  itself  on  the  grass  and  vegetable  detritus 
which  are  on  the  borders  and  in  its  bed.  This  stream  also 
forms  a  light,  very  porous  'tuf,'  a  calcareous  rock,  which  is 
soft  and  friable  as  long  as  it  remains  in  moisture,  but  on 
being  dried  acquires  a  certain  hardness.  Formerly  this  stream 
was  larger  than  it  is  now,  and  it  seems  to  have  deposited  a 
very  good  thickness  of  tuf,  which  appears  on  its  present  bor- 
ders. Take  this  piece  and  examine  it  closely.  You  see  that 
it  is  full  of  cavities,  of  small  cylindrical  galleries  ;  here  were 
twigs  of  vegetables,  around  which  the  carbonate  of  lime  was 
deposited.  These  twigs  have  decayed  and  been  destroyed 
for  a  long  time ;  the  envelope  has  remained  and  hardened 
in  the  air.  Observe  how  light  this  stone  is,  being  com- 
posed of  cells  which  are  scarcely  thicker  than  egg-shells. 
But  try  to  break  it  with  your  heel ;  it  resists,  and  the  press- 
ure scarcely  affects  its  sharp  edges.  Well,  dry  it,  and  in  a 
week  it  will  resist  yet  more ;  then  it  will  require  a  heavy 
blow  of  the  hammer  to  break  it. 

"This  is  perhaps  the  best  material  with  which  to  build 
vaults,  because  of  its  lightness,  resistance,  its  cavities,  and  a 
ruggedness  which  causes  the  mortar  to  stick  so  fast  to  the 
junctions  that  it  cannot  be  detached,  and  that  the  whole, 
when  sufficiently  dry,  seems  to  form  but  a  single  piece. 


PLANTING    THE  HOUSE.  9 1 

"  We  will  send  men  to  quarry  several  metres  of  it.  This 
is  not  difficult :  when  the  tuf  is  moist  in  its  natural  bed,  it 
can  be  rapidly  taken  out  in  lumps." 

They  soon  reached  Noiret's  farm ;  and  there,  sure  enough, 
along  the  barn  wall,  under  a  shed,  pieces  of  wood  were 
piled  up,  cut  in  large  squares  and  black  from  moisture. 
The  cousin  marked  a  certain  number  with  his  knife,  leaving 
aside  those  which  were  crooked,  knotty,  or  rolled. 

"  And  what  is  a  '  rolled '  piece  of  wood  ? "  asked  Paul. 

"  Rolled  woods  are  those  the  fibres  of  which  turn  in  a 
spiral  round  the  core.  You  see  the  fibres,  which  are  not 
vertical,  and  form  spirals  more  or  less  distinct,  lose  their 
property  of  resistance  ;  these  fibres,  because  of  their  irregular 
turning,  become  disjointed,  and  leave  deep  cracks  between 
them.  Such  woods  are  therefore  rejected  as  defective,  as 
well  as  those  which  are  attacked  at  the  core,  or  which 
have  diseased  parts  between  their  layers,  called  '  malan- 
ders,'  these  being  a  kind  of  interior  ulcers  which  first  take 
from  the  wood  its  solid  resistance,  and  then  develop  decay 
in  it.  It  often  happens  that  the  malanders  are  not  visi- 
ble, and  then  carpentry  wood  which  seems  perfectly  sound 
falls  to  dust.  As  these  diseases  are  frequent  or  rare  accord- 
ing to  the  ground  in  which  the  wood  grows,  it  is  necessary 
to  know  the  origin  of  the  wood  used  in  building.  One 
forest  produces  oaks  which  have  a  fine  appearance,  but 
which    rapidly    decay ;    another    furnishes    oaks    which    are 


92  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

always   sound.      In  general,  woods  grown  in  light,   dry  soils 
are  good ;  those  which  come  from  moist  clay  soils  are  bad. 

"  You  will  have  these  rolled  and  crooked  pieces  put  one 
side,  as  they  will  be  good  for  making  the  cellar  arches ; 
they  will  do  for  that,  or  for  fires.  As  for  these  bits  of 
spruce,  they  will  serve  to  make  our   scaffoldings." 

It  was  late,  and  the  two  companions  breakfasted  at  the 
farm.  "While  the  table  was  being  set,  Paul  said,  "  Explain 
to  me,  cousin,  how  you   use  the  graphometer." 

"  It 's  the  simplest  thing  in  the  world,  in  such  an  opera- 
tion as  we  have  just  been  engaged  in.  I  asked  Papa  Bran- 
chu  to  have  my  instrument  carried  to  the  chateau,  so  as  not 
to  be  bothered  with  it  all  the  morning,  but  it  is  not  neces- 
sary to  have  it  here  to  show  you  how  we  operate.  You 
know  that  the  graphometer  is  composed  of  a  graduated  cir- 
cle, divided  into  360  degrees.  This  circle,  movable  on  its 
centre,  is  provided  with  a  spirit-level,  and  above  with  an 
eye-glass,  both  of  which  turn  on  a  pivot  at  the  centre  of 
the  circle.  The  level  and  the  axis  of  the  glass  are  exactly 
parallel  with  the  plane  of  the  circle.  You  place  this  on  a 
prop  with  three  legs,  and  first  establish  the  circle  horizon- 
tally by  means  of  three  screws  and  by  turning  the  level  on 
the  pivot.  The  spirit  must  always  be  in  the  centre  under 
some  degree  of  the  circle  which  the  tube  is  turned  to.  This 
done,  and  the  prop  being  placed  at  the  point  marked  on  the 
ground,  which  is   verified  by  means  of  a   plumb-line  passing 


PLANTING    THE  HOUSE.  93 

by  the  centre  of  the  plateau,  the  glass  is  directed  to  a  fixed 
point  where  a  stake  is  placed.  The  surface  of  the  glass  is 
crossed  by  two  hairs,  at  right  angles,  which  mark  its  centre. 
The  intersection  of  the  two  hairs  must  fall  on  the  point 
to  be  observed.  But,  previously,  the  indicator,  or  scale,  at 
the  base  of  the  glass,  is  placed  on  the  zero  of  the  circle. 
It  is  then  the  whole  of  the  instrument  which  has  been 
turned.  Then,  if  you  wish,  for  instance,  to  form  a  right 
angle  on  the  line  uniting  the  point  where  you  are  placed 
with  the  first  stake,  you  turn  the  glass  until  its  indicator 
is  at  90  degrees  (a  quarter  of  the  circle).  You  send  a 
man  with  another  stake  in  the  direction  of  the  glass,  and 
make  him  carry  it  to  the  right  or  left,  until  its  middle  is 
exactly  on  the  line  of  the  vertical  hair  on  the  glass.  Then 
the  stake  is  put  down.  It  is  then  certain  that  the  line 
drawn  from  the  point  where  you  are  placed,  to  the  second 
stake,  forms  a  right  angle  with  the  first  base  line ;  since 
two  diameters,  cutting  a  circle  divided  into  360  degrees  at 
right  angles,  give  90  degrees  for  each  quarter  of  the  circle. 
"With  the  aid  of  this  instrument,  having  previously  indicated 
on  the  plan  of  the  building  it  is  intended  to  erect  the 
angles  which  form  certain  lines  between  them,  from  a  cer- 
tain point,  you  can  transfer  these  angles  to  the  ground. 

"  Suppose  you  want  to  plant  a  semicircular  portico.  Hav- 
ing found  the  centre,  and  traced  the  semicircle  on  the 
ground,  you  can,  by  placing  the  graphometer  on  that  centre, 


94  THE  STORY  OF  A  HOUSE. 

determine  the  lines  which  will  regularly  cut  the  circumfer- 
ence, and  would  indicate,  for  instance,  the  axis  of  the  col- 
umns of  pillars.  (Fig.  20.)  As  you  have  from  the  point  A 
to  the  point  B  180  degrees,  you  will  divide  these  180  de- 
grees into  as  many  parts  as  you  wish  on  the  circle  of  the 
graphometer,  and  the  centre  of  the  glass  will  give  you,  at  a 
long  distance,  the  same  divisions  on  the  semicircular  por- 
tico. 


"  In  the  same  way  that  the  graphometer  serves  for  plant- 
ing a  building,  it  serves  to  take  the  bearings  of  a  ground. 
Suppose  that  the  base  E  F  is  of  a  known  length,  which  has 
been  measured ;  placing  your  instrument  at  E,  you  sight 
with  a  glass  a  point  c,  whether  it  be  a  tree,  a  steeple,  or  a 
picket;  you  have  then  the  number  of  degrees,  on  the  circle, 
which  the.  angle  C  E  F  includes.  You  'carry  this  angle 
upon  your  plan  ;  then,  carrying  the  instrument  to  the  point 
E,  you  sight  from  thence  the  same  point  G ;  you  obtain  the 
same  angle  C  E  F,  which,  carried  upon  the  plan,  gives  you 
exactly- the  position  of  the  point   C,  and  the  unknown   dis- 


PLANTING    THE  HOUSE.  95 

tance  between  E  and  C,  between  F  and  C;  then  one  or 
other  of  these  lengths  serves  you  as  a  base  in  their  turn, 
and  operating  from  the  point  C  or  F,  in  sighting  a  fourth 
point  D,  you  ascertain  the  lengths  0  D  and  F  D.  Thus 
you  can  operate  all  over  a  section  of  country ;  it  is  called 
f  triangulation,'  the  first  operation  in  making  a  map.  But 
here  we  come  upon  another  subject.  Come,  let 's  to  break- 
fast," 


96  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 


CHAPTEE    VIII. 


PAUL   REFLECTS. 


«\/: 


pIS  ham  omelet  eaten,  Paul  remained  silent. 

"Why,  little  cousin,  you  seem  to  be  rapt  in 
something  beyond  the  real  world :  are  you  still 
so  hungry  as  to  be  pensive,  and  must  you  have  another 
omelet  ? " 

"  No  ;  I  'm  neither  thirsty  nor  hungry,  but  I  find  it  al- 
ready difficult  to  understand  what  you  have  been  so  kindly 
telling  me  the  past  four  days ;  there  are  points  which 
escape  me,  and  I  begin  to  wonder  whether  I  can  really  be 
of  any  use  in  the  construction  you  are  erecting.  It  seems 
to  me  that  I  have  much  to  learn-;  the  little  that  you  have 
taught  me  is  all  mixed  up  in  my  head,  and  we  have  not 
yet  even  set  to  work." 

"  Already  discouraged,  —  come  now  !  Each  day  suffices 
for  its  work,  and  a  building  is  not  erected  so  quickly  that 
you  cannot,  each  evening,  add  little  by  little  to  your  practi- 
cal knowledge  without  confusion.  All  this  will  classify 
itself  in  your  head,  for  the  head  is  a  marvellous  box  ;  the 
more  you  fill  it,  the  larger  it  grows;  and  each  thing,  classed 


PAUL  REFLECTS.  97 


in  the  compartment  which  is  destined  to  receive  it,  may 
always  be  found.  The  point  is  to  well  arrange  the  compart- 
ments, and  only  to  place  in  them  objects  which  have  been 
scrupulously  studied  and  tried. 

"But  it  is  necessary  that  the  work  done  should  be  made 
plain  each  clay,  leaving  nothing  to  the  morrow.  The  task 
I  set  to  you,  that  is,  the  daily  verification  of  all  that  enters 
upon  the  ground,  and  the  use  of  materials,  which  we  call 
the  '  attachments',  is  only  a  question  of  exactness  and  care. 
The  chief  thing  is  not  to  get  behindhand.  Two  hours  at 
most  will  suffice  you  each  day  for  taking  your  notes  on  the 
spot ;  two  more  for  writing  these  notes  out.  You  see  you 
will  still  have  three  or  four  hours  to  occupy  yourself  with 
the  details  of  execution,  and  to  run  about  the  fields." 
"  Did  you  begin  to  learn  architecture  in  this  way  ? " 
"  0,  by  no  means !  On  leaving  college,  I  entered  an 
architect's  office,  who  for  two  years  made  me  copy  designs 
of  monuments,  of  which  I  was  told  neither  the  age,  country, 
nor  use;  then  I  had  to  color  them  with  the  tints.  Mean- 
while I  followed  courses  of  mathematics,  geometry,  and  orna- 
mental designing.  Then  I  was  able  to  enter  the  School  of 
Fine  Arts,  where  I  did  not  learn  much,  but  where  there 
were  exhibitions  for  obtaining  medals,  and,  if  one  could,  the 
grand  prize.  There  I  remained  three  years.  Total,  five 
years.  Still,  it  was  necessary  for  me  to  get  my  living,  for  1 
only  had  enough   to  pay    my   lodging  and  purchase    clothing. 


98  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

I  had  to  get  a  situation,  that  is,  work  at  so  much  an  hour 
for  a  busy  architect.  There  I  made  copies,  and  more  copies, 
but  sometimes  certain  details  of  execution  ;  God  knows  how, 
for  I  had  never  seen  the  least  part  of  a  building  executed ! 

"  But  my  patron  was  not  strict,  and  the  contractors  sup- 
plied by  their  experience  what  was  wanting  to  these  details. 
Seeing  that  all  this  would  not  lead  me,  by  a  short  road,  to 
learn  my  profession,  and  having  inherited  several  thousand 
francs,  I  set  out  on  a  tour,  to  study  the  architecture  of 
edifices  already  built,  and  not  of  those  which  were  only 
shown  to  me  on  paper.  I  observed,  compared,  saw  the 
practical  working,  visited  edifices  which  were  falling,  so  as 
to  understand  the  causes  of  their  ruin. 

"By  five  more  years  I  knew  enough  of  my  profession  to 
try  its  practice.  Total,  ten  years,  and  I  had  not  built  a 
niche  for  a  dog.  A  protector  procured  me  admission  to  an 
agency  of  public  works,  where  I  saw  methods  used  which 
were  scarcely  in  accord  with  the  observations  I  had  been 
able  to  gather  in  my  studies  of  old  architecture.  If  per- 
chance I  indulged  in  comments  of  this  kind,  they  stared  at 
me ;  and  the  result  was  that  I  did  not  remain  long,  espe- 
cially as  an  excellent  opportunity  presented  itself  to  utilize 
what  I  had  learned. 

"  A  large  company  was  making  constructions  of  some  very 
important  works.  It  had  an  architect  who  professed  to 
build   Roman  edifices   for   them ;    this   rather   troubled   them. 


PAUL  REFLECTS.  99 


They  did  not  deem  it  essential  to  erect  in  the  valley  of  the 
Loire  edifices  recalling  the  splendor  of  Rome.  I  was  intro- 
duced to  the  directors ;  they  explained  their  plan  to  me. 
I  listened,  and  worked  like  a  negro,  to  acquire  all  that  was 
needed  to  satisfy  my  employers.  I  visited  works,  consulted 
large  contractors,  studied  materials ;  finally  I  furnished  a 
first  plan,  which  by  no  means  pleases  me  now.  The  work 
was  begun ;  close  study,  constant  attendance  on  the  ground, 
gave  me  what  I  was  deficient  in,  so  that  my  first  operations 
met  with  approval.  Most  of  the  directors  had  city  mansions 
and  rural  chateaux.  I  became  their  architect,  and  I  had 
soon  an  excellent  business,  and  more  work  than  I  could 
do,  as  I  think  one  must  always  be  studying,  reasoning,  and 
modifying ;  for  the  farther  you  advance,  the  more  difficulties 
you  encounter." 

"  How,  then,  is  architecture  studied  ?  " 

"  Why,  by  practising  it.  At  least,  in  France,  they  now 
employ  no  other  method,  and  perhaps  it  is  the  best." 

"  But  how  do  those  learn  to  construct  who  do  not  go 
about  the  world,  as  you  did,  and  who  follow  the  usual  in- 
struction ? " 

"They  do  not  learn  how  to  construct.  They  are  only 
taught  to  conceive  and  plan  buildings  that  cannot  be  con- 
structed, under  the  pretext  of  preserving  the  traditions  of 
'high  art';  and  when  they  are  tired  of  putting  these  concep- 
tions on  paper,  they  are  appointed  to  an  agency,  where  they 


100  THE  STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

do  as  you  are  going  to  do  ;  only  they  do  it  with  disgust, 
since  they  see  clearly  other  methods." 

"  But  in  beginning  as  I  am  about  to  do,  can  I  afterwards 
study  the  —  what  shall  I  say  ?  " 

"  The  theory,  the  art,  in  a  word  ?  Certainly,  and  much 
more  easily,  for  the  little  practice  you  will  have  acquired 
in  building  a  house,  or  in  seeing  it  built,  from  the  founda- 
tions to  the  summit,  will  enable  you  to  understand  much 
that,  without  practice,  is  inexplicable  in  the  study  of  the 
art.  This  will  give  you  the  habit  of  reasoning,  and  of  tak- 
ing account  of  certain  forms,  certain  arrangements  enjoined 
by  the  necessities  of  practice  ;  forms  and  arrangements 
which  appear  to  be  pure  fantasies  in  the  eyes  of  those  who 
have  no  idea  of  these  necessities. 

"  How  do  they  teach  children  to  talk  ?  By  explaining  the 
rules  of  grammar  to  them  when  they  are  three  years  old  ? 
No  ;  but  by  talking  to  them  and  making  them  talk,  to  ex- 
press their  desires  and  needs.  When  they  can  talk  nearly 
as  well  as  you  or  I,  the  mechanism  and  rules  of  language 
are  taught  them,  and  then  they  can  write  correctly.  But 
before  learning  by  what  laws  the  words  ought  to  be  placed, 
and  how  to  write  to  compose  a  phrase,  they  know  the  sig- 
nification of  each  of  them. 

"  If  we  had  not  in  France  very  strange  ideas  about  edu- 
cation, we  should  begin  the  study  of  architecture  at  the  be- 
ginning, and   not   at   the  end.     "We   should  give  the  scholars 


PAUL   REFLECTS.  10 1 


these  elementary  practical  methods  of  the  art  of  building, 
before  making  them  copy  the  Parthenon  or  the  Baths  of 
Caracalla,  which,  in  default  of  these  first  practical  ideas,  are 
only  images  to  them  ;  we  should  thus  lead  youthful  minds 
to  reason  and  recognize  what  they  are  wanting  in,  in  place 
of  exciting  their  budding  vanity  by  exercises  purely  theo- 
retical or  artistic,  when  they  cannot  understand  the  forms 
given  them  as  models." 

"  A  house  like  that  we  are  going  to  build  is,  it  seems  to 
me,  a  small  matter,"  said  Paul ;  "  and  such  a  construction 
can  scarcely  furnish  information  necessary  to  the  erection  of 
a  great  edifice." 

"  Don't  think  that,  little  cousin ;  construction,  outside  of 
a  certain  scientific  and  practical  knowledge  which  you  can 
study  at  leisure,  is  only  a  method,  a  habit  of  reasoning, 
an  obedience  to  the  rules  of  good  sense.  Well,  then,  you 
must  have  good  sense,  and  consult  it.  Unhappily  there  is 
a  school  of  architects  who  disdain  this  natural  faculty,  under 
the  pretence  that  it  hampers  inspiration,  —  for  we  have 
visionaries,  as  there  are  among  writers,  painters,  and  sculp- 
tors ;  but  if  fantasy  is  permitted  to  men  of  letters  and  ar- 
tists, as  it  hurts  nobody,  architecture  is  another  thing;  it 
costs  dear,  and  it  's  you  and  I  who  pay  for  it.  We  have, 
then,  the  right  to  consider  it  at  least  inopportune.  You  must 
as  much  exercise  the  reasoning  powers  and  good  sense  to 
erect  a  house  as    to   construct   the   Louvre,  just   as   one    can 


102  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

betray  tact  and  wit  as  much  in  a  letter  as  in  an  octavo 
volume.  The  value  of  an  architect  is  not  measured  by  the 
quantity  of  cubic  metres  of  stone  which  he  employs.  The 
size  of  the  edifice  is  not  the  important  thing." 

"  Thus  you  admit  that  it  requires  as  much  ability  to 
build  a  small  house  as  a  great  palace  ? " 

"  I  do  not  say  that.  I  say  that  the  faculties,  the  reason, 
the  just  measure,  the  exact  appreciation  of  the  disposable 
elements  and  their  wise  use,  are  as  much  manifested  in  the 
construction  of  the  most  modest  house  as  in  that  of  the 
noblest  edifice." 

"  I  can,  then,  learn  a  great  deal  in  following  the  construc- 
tion of  my  sister's  house  ?  " 

"  Certainly.  First,  because  one  learns  much  when  he  has 
the  will  to  learn  ;  secondly,  because  in  a  house,  as  in  the 
greatest  palace,  you  must  see  pass  before  your  eyes  the 
whole  operation  of  building,  from  that  of  the  diggers  to 
that  of  the  decorative  painter.  Whether  the  carpenter  makes 
twenty  doors  or  two  hundred,  if  you  wish  to  understand 
the  way  of  making  a  door,  of  building  and  setting  it,  a  sin- 
gle door  suffices  ;  you  have  no  need  to  see  a  thousand." 

"  Still,  we  shall  not  make  doors  here,  £or  instance,  like 
those  which  belong  to  the  apartments  of  a  sovereign." 

"No  ;  but  the  principle  of  structure  'is,  or  ought  to  be, 
the  same  in  both  ;  and  it  is  when  these  principles  are  de- 
parted   from    that    one    becomes    visionary   and    nonsensical. 


PAUL  REFLECTS. 


"When  you  learn  how  a  joiner's  door  is  made,  you  will  see 
that  its  structure  is  according  to  the  nature  of  the  material 
employed ;  the  wood,  and  the  place  where  it  is  to  be  put. 
After  that  you  can  study  how  the  masters  have  made  use 
of  these  elements  and  Jiow,  without  neglecting  the  principle, 
they  have  produced  simple  or  very  rich  works ;  you  can  do 
like  them,  if  you  have  talent,  and  seek  after  new  applica- 
tions. But  before  all,  you  must  know  how  a  door  is  made, 
and  not  copy  at  hazard,  before  acquiring  this  first  practical 
knowledge,  the  various  forms  which  have  been  adopted,  good 
or  bad." 

Paul  continued  to  be  thoughtful  all  the  rest  of  the  day  ; 
it  was  evident  that  he  caught  glimpses  of  great  difficulties, 
and  that  the  building  of  his  sister's  house  took  troublesome 
proportions  in  his  mind.  Returning  to  the  paternal  mansion, 
he  examined  the  doors,  windows,  woodwork,  as  if  he  had 
never  seen  anything  of  the  kind;  and  the  more  he  looked, 
the  more  it  all  seemed  to  him  confused,  complicated,  and 
hard  to  comprehend.  He  had  never  thought  by  what  arti- 
fices these  pieces  of  wood  had  been  brought  together,  and 
found  no  very  satisfactory  solutions  of  the  questions  which 
he  proposed  to  himself. 


104  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

PAUL   AS   INSPECTOR  OF   WORKS. 

||OME,  my  dear  Paul,  and  see  where  the  excava- 
| ;  tions  are,  this  morning,"  said  the  cousin,  the  day 
after  the  visit  to  the  ground,  "  and  you  shall  give 
me  an  account  of  it.  Carry  with  you  a  metre-measure 
and  a  memorandum-book ;  you  will  take  notes  and  measures 
of  what  has  already  been  done.  You  will  examine  the 
ground,  and  will  tell  me  if  &x\y  stone-banks  are  found  near 
the  surface  of  the  soil,  or  if  the  movable  earths  are  deep. 
Meanwhile  I  will  sketch  the  plan  of  the  cellars.  But  take 
a  copy  of  the  plan  of  the  ground-floor  of  the  house,  and 
mark  upon  it  what  has  been  excavated  and  what  is  found 
there.  The  work  cannot  be  far  advanced  ;  but  some  excava- 
tions, at  least,  will  have  been  made,  as  I  told  Papa  Branchu 
to  put  on  it  as  many  workmen  as  he  could  find,  in  order 
to  carry  out  your  father's  intentions." 

Paul,  somewhat  embarrassed  by  his  new  functions,  soon 
reached  the  ground.  Aided  by  Papa  Branchu,  he  measured 
the  excavations,  indicated  the  depths  as  he  could,  and  took 
note  of  the  points  where  rock  and  loose  earth  were  found. 
This   occupied   him   for  two   full   hours. 


Pig.  29. 


-j i i_i i i i_ 


i.(B>. 
1    '      -    t 


Y"yy"ymty/ 


Fig.  21. 

Fig.  2i.  —  PLAN  OF   THE  CELLARS.  —  Page  105. 
Fig.  29.  —  THE  GARDEN   FRONT.  —  Page  122. 


PAUL  AS  INSPECTOR    OF   WORKS.  105 

"  Well,"  said  the  cousin,  when  they  were  seated  in  the 
working-room,  "here  is  the  plan  of  the  cellars  (Fig.  21).  Let 
us  see  how  this  will  be  arranged  with  what  you  have  found, 
and  if  we  are  to  make  any  changes  in  it.  Good  !  The  rock 
is  nearly  on  a  level  with  the  soil  on  the  south,  and  the 
loose  earth  reaches  pretty  regularly  a  depth  of  three  metres 
towards  the  north  of  our  buildings.  We  will  therefore  place 
the  cellars  under  the  drawing-room,  dining-room,  and  bil- 
liard-room, along  the  lime  rock,  which  will  be  cut  out,  and 
we  will  establish  the  front  parts,  especially  those  of  the 
stable  and  carriage-house  building,  on  a  good   masonry-work. 

"  Here  (Fig.  21)  is  the  plan  of  the  cellars  ;  you  see  the 
lines  of  the  axes ;  they  indicate  the  axes  of  the  ground-floor 
walls,  and  should  not  vary.  The  measurements  of  the  thick- 
ness of  the  walls  are  written  down,  departing  always  from 
these  axes.  You  see  that  these  figures  are  Greater  where  the 
cellar  wall  would  carry  the  springing  of  the  cellar  vaults, 
according  to  what  I   explained  to  you  the  other  day. 

"  AVe  have  a  small  watercourse  which  will  supply  the 
household  needs,  by  means  of  a  reservoir  which  we  will  place 
as  high  as  possible.  We  have  not  yet  established  the  level- 
ling ;  but  at  a  glance  I  should  judge  that,  by  reason  of  the  fall 
of  this  stream  and  the  rapidity  of  its  flow,  at  one  hundred 
metres  from  the  house  the  reservoir  will  supply  the  water  so 
that  it  may  reach,  by  conduits,  the  level  of  the  first  floor. 
We    must   verify  this.     Otherwise  we  shall   have  recourse  to 


106  THE   STORY   OF  A   HOUSE. 

a  pump  worked  by  horse-power  or  a  windmill  We  will 
then  conduct  this  watercourse  in  a  sewer  along  the  walls 
north  of  the  house,  as  you  see  at  A,  so  that  this  sewer 
will  collect  the  water  used  in  the  house  by  a  conduit,  B, 
and  will  be  connected  with  the  water-closets  at  C,  D,  and 
E.  The  running  water  will  thus  carry  off  the  impurities  to  a 
basin  which  we  will  establish  below  in  the  kitchen-oarden. 
This  rejected  water  is  excellent  for  fertilizing  the  vegetables. 

"On  the  plan,  I  have  indicated  at  G  the  profiles  of  the 
cellar  vaults.  These  will  be  1  m.  50  c.  to  the  beginning  of 
the  vaults,  and  the  vaults  will  rise  1  m.  50  c.  These  cellars 
will  therefore  have  three  metres  under  the  crown,  which  is 
very  good.  You  can  then  use  the  cellars,  not  only  for  stor- 
ing wines,  but  vegetables,  a  cupboard,  and  so  on.  The  soil 
of  our  sround-floor  bein"  1  m.  50  c.  above  the  exterior  soil, 
it  will  be  easy  to  ventilate  the  cellars  by  vent-holes,  as  I 
have  marked  at  H.  You  will  descend  to  them  by  the  stair- 
case on  the  right,  situated  near  the  wash-house,  and  by  the 
servant's  staircase  in  the  turret.  The  right-hand  staircase 
will  serve  to  carry  down  provisions,  and  the  opposite  stair- 
case to  carry  up  the  wines  and  other  things.  Have  you 
seen  to  it  that  Papa  Branchu  has  had  the  -materials,  taken 
from  the  excavations,  properly  arranged  ? " 

"  Yes ;  he  has  so  far  only  found  some  small  pieces  which 
he  calls  'soft  bed,'  but  he  has  had  them  piled  up,  and  tells 
me  they  will  be  good  for  the  foundation  walls." 


PAUL  AS  INSPECTOR   OF   WORKS.  107 

"  He  is  right ;  this  '  soft  bed '  is  subject  to  the  frost  in 
the  open  air,  but  is  hard  and  does  well  in  cellars;  besides, 
it  permits  good  masonry,  because  it  is  in  layers,  that  is,  it 
is  naturally  taken  out  in  little  parallel  pieces  from  ten  to 
fifteen  centimetres  in  thickness." 

"  That  is  what  he  told  me ;  but  he  added  that  that  con- 
sumes a  great  deal  of  mortar,  and  I  don't  quite  understand 
what  he  means  by  that." 

"Well,  the  smaller  the  stones  the  more  layers  of  mor- 
tar they  require  between  them ;  but  if  you  have  observed 
these  pieces,  you  have  seen  that  they  are  extremely  rough, 
and  riddled  with  cavities  on  their  surface.  The  mortar 
must  therefore  be  plentiful  between  each  layer,  so  as  to  fill 
these  cavities ;  and  it  is  in  this  that  the  masonry,  when 
the  mortar  is  not  spared,  is  excellent;  the  rough  surfaces 
adhere  to  the  mortar  much  better  than  smooth  surfaces 
would,  and  make  a  solid  body  with  it,  and  soon  the  whole 
forms  a  single  mass.  But  you  must  not  spare  the  lime  and 
sand,  and  this  is  what  made  Papa  Branchu  say  that  this 
stone  consumes  a  good  deal  of  mortar." 

"  Papa  Branchu  also  said  that  lie  had  found  some  good 
stone  for  making  lime,  on  the  limestone-banks,  proper  to 
build  with,  and  asked  if  he  should  put  it  one  side." 

"  Certainly  ;  if  the  lime-burner  cannot  furnish  us  with 
lime,  we  will  make  some  ;  it  is  not  hard  to  do,  as  we  have 
plenty  of  fagots  from  the  last  wood-cuttings." 


io8 


THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 


"  Papa  Branclm  also  asked  me  where  the  rubbish  should 
be  carried  to." 

"  You  will  tell  him,  to-morrow  morning,  to  dispose  it  in 
'  cavaliers '  on  the  right  and  left  of  the  excavations ;  we 
shall  have  need  of  it  to  level  the  approaches  to  the  house." 

"  What   is   a   '  cavalier '  ? " 

V=r~ t= ^^>e 

A  A J  '      B 

7L/ :i;-V 

c  J  D 

Fig.  22. 

"  It  is  an  artificial  mound  which  is  deposited  according  to 
a  regular  height  and  thickness,  so.  as  to  be  able  to  take  the 
cube  of  it  easily.  Thus  when  we  take  up  the  rubbish  in 
wheelbarrows,  —  which  is,  as  you  have  seen,  the  method 
we  are  employing,  —  the  surface  which  the  '  cavalier '  is  to 
occupy  on  the  soil  is  traced  out ;  let  A  B  (Fig.  22)  be  the 
length,  C  D  the  width.  This  done,  the  point  B,  being  far- 
thest from  that  where  the  rubbish  is  taken, .the  barrow-men 
dispose  the  first  earth  at  B,  leaving  to  the  embankment  an 
inclination  sufficiently  slanting  that  the  barrows  may  be 
wheeled  full  without  trouble.  Thus,  little  by  little,  they 
obtain    an    embankment  ABB.     Then  from    the    middle    F, 


PAUL  AS  INSPECTOR    OF    WORKS.  109 


half  of  the  slope  A  E,  they  leave  a  path  a  b,  of  a  width 
of  1  m.  50  c.  for  the  going  and  coming  of  the  barrows,  and 
then  they  fill  up  the  triangle  A  G  F  with  sloping  beds. 
They  end  by  filling  the  triangle  G  F  E.  There  remains  the 
path  g  d  h  i  to  fill,  which  is  done  with  shovels,  as  fast  as 
the  earth  is  carried  upon  it.  The  'cavalier'  being  thus  per- 
fectly regular,  its  slopes  are  given  by  the  slipping  earth, 
that  is,  they  form  angles  of  nearly  40  degrees  with  the 
horizon,  according  to  the  nature  of  the  embankment.  This 
being  finished,  and  having,  let  us  suppose,  10  metres  of 
mid-height,  from  I  to  m,  and  4  metres  of  mid-height  in 
its  width,  from  n  to  b,  by  multiplying  10  metres  by  4  you 
get  40  metres  of  surface  at  this  mean  level.  Multiplying 
this  figure  by  2  metres,  the  height  of  the  'cavalier,'  we  find 
80  cubic  metres.  You  know,  then,  that  you  have  moved 
this  quantity  of  earth,  and  what  consequently  you  have  to 
pay,  if  you  remove  your  rubbish  and  embankments  by  the 
cubic  metre ;  or  at  what  price  you  get  the  cubic  metre  of 
removed  earth,  if  the  work  is  done  by  the  day." 
"  And  does  this  cube  give  that  of  the  excavation  ? " 
"Not  entirely.  The  compressed  earth,  packed  down  on 
the  natural  soil,  cubes  less  than  that  which  has  been 
removed,  and  leaves  many  spaces  between  the  material  of 
the  embankment.  We  say,  then,  that  the  earth  carried  off 
'  abounds '  more  or  less.  Sea-sand  does  not  '  abound,'  whilst 
pebbly  earth,  mixed  with  vegetable  detritus,  'abounds'  a  good 


no 


THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 


deal.  You  must  then,  in  your  reckoning,  take  account  of 
the  void  in  the  excavation,  to  get  the  cube  of  the  earth  re- 
moved, and  cube  the  '  cavaliers '  so  as  to  know,  when  we  use 
them,  the  mass  of  earth  which  we  shall  have  to  carry  -else- 
where. 

"  Now,  put  this  plan  of  the  cellars  to  a  scale  of  two  centime- 
tres per  metre,  so  as  to  be  able  to  write  the  figures  legibly  ; 
then  I  will  show  you  the  points  on  the  plan,  where  the  rug- 
ged ashlars  must  be  put." 

"  What  are  the  rugged  ashlars  ? " 


"  The  cut  stone  is  so  called,  which  is  placed  at  the  foun- 
dation, and  which  is  only  cut  on  its  layers,  that  is,  which 
has  not  visible  faces.  A  cut  stone  always  possesses  two 
layers,  which  are  its  horizontal  surfaces ;  one  or  several 
faces,  which  are  the  visible  surfaces,  and  its  joinings,  which 
are  the  separating  surfaces.  Thus  let  us  suppose  an  angle 
stone   carrying  a  pilaster,  and  having  the   form   which  I   in- 


PAUL  AS   INSPECTOR    OF    WORKS.  Ill 

dicate  here  (Fig.  23) ;  the  surfaces  ab  c  d  ef,  g  hij  hi  are 
the  upper  and  lower  layers.  The  surfaces  alb g,  b gch, 
c  cl  h  i,  d  e  ij  are  the  visible  faces,  and  the  surfaces  efj  k, 
afkl  are  the  joinings,  the  neighboring  stones  touching 
these  surfaces.  You  perceive  that,  when  stones  are  placed 
under  the  soil,  in  the  foundation,  it  is  not  necessary  to  cut 
the  faces,  which  would  only  be  visible  to  the  moles.  The 
cutting  is  therefore  economized ;  that  is,  the  stone  is  left 
uncut  on  its  vertical  faces  and  on  its  laid-down  layers. 
They  choose  for  these  rugged  ashlars  solid  stones,  resisting 
burdens,  but  which  in  other  places  would  be  affected  by  frost, 
and  which  could  not  be  used  well  in  the  open  air ;  under 
ground,  they  are  preserved  from  the  action  of  the  frost.  But 
you  must  be  cautious,  more  so  with  regard  to  these  stones 
than  those  used  in  the  elevation,  to  place  them  according 
to  their  quarry  layers  and  their  natural  stratified  position  ; 
otherwise  they  might  break,  or  be  crushed  under  the  weight 
of  -the  masonry  above. 

'When  our  plan  is  finished,  we  will  indicate  the  places 
where  the  rugged  ashlars  should  be  put  by  a  particular 
color.  These  will  be  the  angles,  the  junctions  of  the  walls 
which  receive  the  relatively  heaviest  weight.  Between  them 
the  masonry  will  be  raised  simply  with  ashlar  stone. 

'The  soil  being  good,  we  will  content  ourselves  with 
making  the  foundation  at  fifty  centimetres  only  below  the 
area  of  the   cellars.     But   when   we  shall   have   reached   this 


112  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

level,  the  cut  stones  will  necessarily  have  visible  faces  in 
these  cellars ;  these  materials  will  no  longer  be  rugged  ash- 
lars, but  cut  stones.  We  will  not  take  the  finest  and  best 
looking,  but  those  which  will  best  resist  the  weight,  and 
which,  in  this  country,  are  the  coarsest  of  aspect.  We  will 
put  cut  stone  at  the  angles  of  our  cellars,  at  the  jambs  of 
the  doors  and  vent-holes,  and  at  the  newels  of  the  stair- 
cases. 

"But  you  have  enough  work  for  to-day,  and  to-morrow 
morning —  Oh!  I  forgot.  If  Papa  Branchu  meets  with 
springs  or  leakings  which  bother  him,  let  me  know,  and  we 
will  at  once  establish  channels  to  collect  them.  This  will 
enable  us  to  fix  upon  the  level  to  give  to  the  floor-bottom, 
or  '  radier '  of  our  collector." 

"  What  is  a  '  radier '  ? " 

"  It  is  the  part  of  a  canal,  sluice,  or  sewer,  upon  which 
the  water  runs ;  the  bottom,  which  should  be  established  so 
firm  and  solid  that  the  force  of  the  current  will  not  wash 
it  away.  The  beds  of  sewers  must  therefore  be  made  of 
good  flat  stones,  or,  better  still,  of  hydraulic  cement  when 
it  can  be  procured,  as  the  water  finds  means  of  passing  be- 
tween the  joinings  of  stones,  while  if  the  cement  is  skil- 
fully used,  it  forms,  throughout  the  length  of  the  canal,  a 
perfectly  water-tight  homogeneous  mass.  They  take  care, 
besides,  to  give  to  the  floor-bottom  of  a  sewer  a  slightly 
concave  form,  joined  at   the   sides   without   angles ;  for  water 


PAUL   AS  INSPECTOR    OF    WORKS. 


113 


profits  by  angles  to  cany  on  its  work  of  destruction.  Be- 
sides, angles,  when  you  wish  to  clean  out  subterranean  ca- 
nals, are  not  easily  cleansed.  The  best  form  to  give  to  a 
sewer  is  that  of  which  a  section  is  given  here  (Fig.  24)." 


,Z?» 


Flo.   24 


114  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 


CHAPTER   X. 

PAUL   BEGINS   TO   UNDERSTAND. 

n|^ESPITE  the  news  of  the  war,  which  became  daily 
more  grave,  M.  cle  Ganclelau  insisted  that  the 
work  should  not  be  interrupted,  and  the  occu- 
pants of  the  chateau  found  a  useful  distraction  from  the 
sad  thoughts  of  the  conflict  in  the  execution  of  the  pro- 
jects arranged  by  Paul  and  his  cousin. 

In  the  evening,  after  the  reading  of  the  paper,  which, 
alas !  recorded  disaster  after  disaster,  all  remained  silent, 
with  eyes  fixed  on  the  hearth  ;  but  soon  M.  de  Gandelau, 
by  an  effort  of  will,  forced  himself  to  ask  how  the  house 
was  getting  on.  Paul,  in  his  capacity  of  inspector  of  "works, 
gave  an  account  of  the  operations  of  the  day,  and  began  to 
acquit  himself  of  this  task  with  no  little  clearness  and  ex- 
actness. He  showed  his  memoranda  of  calculations,  which, 
thanks  to  his  cousin's  corrections,  were  npt  badly  made  up, 
and  which,  by  aid  of  the  daily  review,  indicated  the  expen- 
ditures made.  The  soil  excavated  had  so  far  furnished 
enough  materials  to  avoid  the  necessity  of  resorting  to  other 
quarries.      About   the    loth    of    September,    the    cellar    walls 


PAUL  BEGINS    TO    UNDERSTAND. 


115 


began  already  to  appear  in  the  excavation,  to  construct  which 
wooden  centrings  were  necessary.  The  carpenter  was  asked 
to  bring  sawyers  to  cut  up  the  poplar  trunks,  which,  having 
been  for  some  time  cut,  were  held  in  reserve.  The  best 
part  of  the   wood   was  sawed  in  thin  planks  to  make  scant- 


Fio.  25. 


ling,  which  would  be  used  at  the  proper  time,  and  the 
"slabs,"  that  is,  the  parts  near  the  surface,  were  disposed 
to  make  the  centrings  of  the  cellars.  As  the  plans  only 
gave  two  vaults  the  arches  of  which  were  different,  the  dia- 
grams were  soon  made,  and  the  carpenter  prepared  the  cen- 
trings,  which   were   raised   at   the    moment   the   cellar   walls 


Il6  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

reached  the  level  of  the  springing  of  the  vaults.  These  cen- 
trings were  cut  conformably  to  Fig.  25,  that  is,  each  com- 
posed of  a  tie-beam  A,  a  king-post  B,  two  rafters  C,  and 
braces  D,  which  held  fast  the  curves  formed  by  the  nailed 
slabs  of  poplar,  as  shown  in  E,  and  fixed  at  G  and  H  on 
the  king-post,  by  means  of  a  mortise  F,  and  on  the  tie- 
beam  by  an  iron  pin.  On  these  centrings,  carried  on  the 
beams  K,  and  having  a  space  between  them  of  1  m.  50  c, 
were  placed  bolsters,  that  is,  joists,  L,  8  c.  thick,  to  receive 
the  vaults  made  of  tuf  taken  along  the  stream,  to  which  a 
thickness  of  20  c.  was  given,  with  a  good  cope  of  mortar 
above.  It  was  necessary  to  provide,  in  the  haunch  of  the 
vaults,  spaces  for  vent-holes,  a  task  which  gave  Paul  a  good 
deal  of  trouble,  or  rather  which  was  difficult  for  him  to  un- 
derstand and  arrange  in  his  calculations ;  as  for  Papa  Branch u, 
he  did  not  seem  to  be  much  disturbed  by  it. 

His  cousin  had  given  the  tracing  of  the  vent-holes,  at 
the  same  manner  as  the  profile  of  the  sub-basement,  a  height 
of  1  m.  50  c.  above  the  exterior  soil. 

This  tracing  gave  a  plan  B  and  a  section  A,  as  in  Fig. 
26.  It  was  necessary  for  the  cousin  to  explain  this  tracing 
to  his  inspector,  who  did  not  at  first  sight  comprehend  it. 

"  As  the  light  comes  from  the  heavens,"  said  he,  "  according 
to  a  mean  angle  of  45  degrees,  it  is  according  to  this  angle 
that  the  cellars  must  be  lighted.  As  the  sub-basement  com- 
poses a  course  D  placed  half  under  the  soil,  two  free  courses 


PAUL  BEGINS    TO    UNDERSTAND. 


117 


E  Fy  and  a  retreating  course,  we  give  to  the  cellar  wall, 
carrying  the  springing  of  the  vaults,  90  c.  The  wall  above 
the  interior  soil  having  60  c,  this  wall  gives  30  c.  on  each 
side    of    the    fixed   axis ;    but   the    sub-basement    having    an 


m  - 


M 


Fig.  26. 

exterior  of  projection  of  10  c.  there  will  he  40  c.  from  the 
axis  to  the  exterior  face  of  this  sub-basement.  On  the  inte- 
rior the  wall  descends  directly  to  the  '  summer '  which  car- 
ries the  vaults.      You   must  have  20  c.   to  receive  the  latter. 


Il8  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

Then  from  the  axis  below  the  springing  of  the  vaults  there 
will  be  50  c.  on  the  interior  and  40  c.  on  the  exterior ; 
total  90  c.  The  low  course  disengaging  itself  above  the 
exterior  soil  at  15  c,  since  the  sub-basement  must  have 
1  m.  50  c,  there  remains  above  these  15  c,  1  in.  35  c.  ; 
which  figure,  divided  into  three,  gives  for  each  course  45  c. 
I  take  the  opening  of  the  vent-hole  in  the  second  course.  I 
cut  the  third  10  c.  by  a  chamfer,  to  get  the  light,  as  the  ex- 
terior face  M  shows.  I  cut  the  first  retreating  course  at  45 
degrees,  as  traced  at  7,  leaving  a  clear  piece  a,  of  25  c,  as 
you  see  it  on  the  plan.  Behind  this  I  place  a  lintel  with 
a  chamfer,  as  it  is  traced  in  O,  and  I  take  care  to  leave 
two  '  rebates '  of  5  c.  in  i,  to  place  frames  or  bars  if  desired. 
I  splay  the  vent-hole  from  the  bottom  of  these  'rebates,' 
with  an  opening  of  only  80  c.  on  the  exterior,  to  a  metre. 
I  trace  in  section  an  inclined  line  m  n,  at  20  c,  above  the 
lintel  O,  winch  20  c.  shall  be  the  rise  of  the  vaulting  arch 
which  will  penetrate  the  vault,  and  the  curve  of  which  in 
a  horizontal  projection  will  give  the  tracing  X.  Thus  this 
arc  X  will  receive  the  thrust  of  the  key-stone  of  the  vault, 
and  will  carry  it  upon  the  two  cheeks  P.  Papa  Branchu 
will  have  only  traced  this  curve  X  on  ,the  bolsters  of  the 
centring  to  form  his  vaulting." 

It  was  not  certain  that  Paul  quite  seized  this  explanation, 
though  several  times  repeated,  and  he  did  not  wholly  com- 
prehend it  until  he  saw  Papa  Branchu  do  the  masonry  work 


PAUL   BEGINS    TO    UNDERSTAND. 


119 


on    the    vent-holes,    and    these    appeared    with   the    centring 

taken  away  (Fig.  27). 


Fig.  27. 


"  I  spare  you  the  details,"  said  the  cousin,  who  saw  that 
Paul  scarcely  comprehended  the  construction  of  the  cellars, 
"  fur  the  structure  of  the  vaults,  of  their  penetrations,  is  a 
matter  that  calls  for  long  study.  We  have  only  made  simple 
vaults,  and  you  will  observe  that  the  doors  of  the  cellars  all  fall 
upon  tympans,  and  not  upon  walls  receiving  the  springing  of 


120 


THE   STORY   OF  A    HOUSE. 


the  vaults.  I  avoid  useless  expenses  with  the  difficulties.  We 
will  put  hard  stone  in  the  sub-basement,  but  you  will  remark 
that,  excepting  in  the  angles  and  for  the  vent-holes,  it  is  only  in 
the  casing,  it  does  not  make  '  through  stone,'  that  is,  does  not 
take  the  whole  thickness  of  the  wall.  We  have  excellent  ash- 
lar, which,  with  the  good  mortar  we  use,  is  more  resisting  than 
is  necessary  to  carry  two  floors  and  a  roof.  By  letting  this 
ashlar  form  projecting  toothing-stones  on  the  interior,  we 
shall  unite  it  better  to  the  haunches  of  the  vaults  (Fig.  28), 


Fig.  28. 


and  we  shall  thus  economize  the  freestone.  In  elevation,  above 
the  .basement,  you  will  see  how,  when  you  wish,  you  can  spare 
the  freestone,  while  making  excellent  constructions.     We  find, 


PAUL  BEGINS   TO    UNDERSTAND.  121 

besides,  on  the  neighboring   plateaus,  thin  lime-banks,  which 

are  imbedded  regularly,  following  a  height  of  15  c.  to  20  c.  and 
which  are  excellent '  scappled  stone.'     '  Scappled  stone '  is  that 

which  is  placed  with  visible  facings,  layers,  and  joinings  cut 
in  a  somewhat  rustic  manner.  Behind  this  faced  stone,  which 
gives  a  small  dressing  agreeable  to  the  eye,  and  the  rusticity 
of  which  contrasts  with  the  purity  of  the  freestone,  they  put 
ordinaiy  ashlar.  This  is  obtained  in  places  where  this  ashlar 
13  found  naturally  in  quarry,  an  inexpensive  sort  of  masonry. 
But  it  is  foolish  to  amuse  yourself  by  using  picked  ashlar, 
where  freestone  abounds,  and  where  it  must  be  cut  in  small 
pieces  to  obtain  this  appearance.  You  see  that  this  is  not  to 
act  according  to  common-sense,  to  cut  big  blocks  of  stone  into 
small  pieces,  and  that  when  the  quarries  yield  only  the  former, 
it  is  wise  to  use  them  by  reason  of  their  dimensions,  and  to 
conform  the  construction  to  the  nature  and  height  of  these 
stones.  Here  we  have,  when  we  choose  to  ask  for  them,  lame 
blocks,  but  they  are  not  plentiful.  We  ought,  then,  to  keep  as 
far  as  possible  to  the  quality  of  the  materials  which  the  soil 
furnishes  us   with   in   abundance." 

The    sewer    was    completed    and    the   vaults    closed   in  ;  the 
descents     to     the     cellars     were     placed;    the     ba-cineiit     rOS6     to 

more  than  a  metre  above  the  soil.  It  was  time  to  study  the 
details  of  the  elevations.  That  upon  the  garden  was  only 
projected  in  outline.  Paul  hoped  thai  it  would  have  a  more 
regular  aspect  than   that    upon  the  front.     He    spoke  of  this, 


122  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 


for  he  had  seen  a  number  of  country-houses  near  Paris  which 
seemed  to  him  charming,  with  their  four  "  pepper-boxes  "  with 
angles,  their  porches  in  the  middle  of  the  front,  and  their  zinc- 
ridges  on  the  roofings.  He  had  too  good  an  opinion  of  his 
cousin's  learning  to  criticise  the  facade  of  his  sister's  house, 
as  it  had  been  projected  for  the  entrance  front ;  but  in  his 
mind,  he  would  have  preferred  something  more  in  harmony 
with  the  laws  of  symmetry.  These  openings  of  all  shapes 
and  sizes  somewhat  offended  his  taste.  When  the  fronting 
on  the  garden  was  traced,  which,  for  once,  presented  a  sym- 
metrical aspect  (Fig.  29),  Paul  declared  himself  satisfied 
with  it ;  and  when  the  family  came  together  in  the  evening,  he 
asked  why  the  entrance  fronting  did  not  have  the  same  sym- 
metrical arrangement  which  was  so  agreeable  on  the  side  of 
the  garden. 

"  Because,"  said  the  cousin,  "  the  plan  gives  us,  on  the  side 
of  the  garden,  rooms  in  counterpart,  the  dimensions  of  which 
are  alike  and  the  design  the  same,  while  on  the  side  of  the 
entrance  we  have,  next  to  each  other,  very  different  apart- 
ments. You  are  now  raising,  little  cousin,  a  grave  question. 
There  are  two  methods  to  follow.  You  either  project  a  sym- 
metrical architectural  box,  in  which  you  try,  as  well  as  you 
can,  to  distribute  the  apartments  necessary  to  a  residence ; 
or  you  dispose  these  apartments  on  the  plan,  according  to 
their  importance,  their  relative  position,  and  their  relations  to 
each  other ;  and  you  erect  the  box  by  reason  of  these  apart- 


PAUL  BEGINS   TO    UNDERSTAND.  1 23 

merits  without  seeking  to  obtain  a  symmetrical  aspect.  When 
a  great  edifice  is  to  be  erected,  the  exterior  aspect  of  which 
must  preserve  a  grand  unity,  it  is  well  to  try  to  satisfy  the 
laws  of  symmetry,  and  not  to  give  the  edifice  the  appearance 
of  having  been  built  of  bits  and  pieces.  In  a  private  residence, 
the  imperative  rule  is  to  first  satisfy  the  needs  of  its  occupants, 
and  to  make  no  useless  expenditures.  The  residences  of  the 
ancients,  as  well  as  those  of  the  Middle  Ages,  are  not  symmet- 
rical. Symmetry  applied  at  all  hazards  to  private  architecture 
is  a  modern  invention,  a  matter  of  vanity,  a  false  interpre- 
tation of  the  rules  followed  in  the  best  periods  of  the  art.  The 
houses  at  Pompeii  are  not  symmetrical ;  the  villa,  or  country- 
house,  of  which  Pliny  has  left  us  a  full  description,  does 
not  give  a  general  appearance  of  symmetry.  The  castles, 
manors,  and  houses  erected  during  the  Middle  Ages  are  any- 
thing but  symmetrical.  You  may  visit,  in  England,  Hol- 
land, Sweden,  Hanover,  and  a  large  portion  of  Germany,  a 
number  of  habitations  marvellously  adapted  to  the  needs  of 
their  dwellers,  which  are  constructed  without  regard  to  sym- 
metry, but  are  none  the  less  comfortable  and  pleasant  of 
aspect,  for  the  reason  that  they  clearly  betray  the  purpose 
for  which  they  were  built. 

"I  know  that  a  good  many  people  are  willing  to  suffer 
a  daily  inconvenience  to  have  the  vain  pleasure  of  display- 
ing, outside,  regular  and  monumental  fronts :  but  I  don't 
believe  your  sister   is    one   of  them,  and   that  is  why  I   did 


124  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

not  hesitate  to  follow  what  seems  to  ine  the  law  of  common- 
sense,  when  we  planned  her  house.  With  her  quiet  ami 
slightly  ironical  smile,  she  would  ask  me,  'Why,  dear  cousin, 
have  you  pierced  so  large  a  window  in  this  little  room  ? '  or, 
'  Why  have  you  not  opened  a  bay-window  on  this  side,  where 
there  is  such  a  pretty  view  ? ' 

"  If  I  replied  that  it  was  to  satisfy  the  rules  of  symmetry, 
her  smile  would  probably  broaden  into  a  free  fit  of  laughter, 
and  perhaps  she  would  think  that  Monsieur  her  cousin  was 
a  fool  with  his  laws  of   symmetry." 

"  Alas  ! "  said  M.  de  Ganclelau,  "  those  who  consider  matters 
of  vanity  before  everything  are  but  too  numerous  in  our 
country.  To  make  a  display  is  the  great  thing ;  the  retired 
petty  tradesman,  who  builds  a  country-house,  wants  his  turrets 
placed  regularly  at  the  angles  of  a  symmetrical  building, 
where  he  is  very  poorly  lodged  ;  he  desires  that  the  uncom- 
fortable place  should  be  called  'the  chateau';  and  he  will 
sacrifice  interior  comfort  for  the  satisfaction  of  displaying, 
outside,  bad  plaster  sculptures,  zinc  ornaments  on  the  roof, 
and  a  lot  of  gewgaws  which  must  be  renewed  each  spring. 
Let  us  make,  dear  cousin,  a  good  house,  well  sheltered  from 
sun  and  rain,  cpiiite  dry  within,  and  where  nothing  shall  be 
conceded  to  this  false  luxury,  a  thousand  times  more  offensive 
in  our  country  districts  than  it  is  in  the  city." 


BUILDING   IN  ELEVATION.  125 


CHAPTER    XL 


BUILDING    IN    ELEVATION. 


'T  is  agreed  that  we  shall  build  our  outside  walls 
•[  with  freestone  and  picked  ashlar,"  said  the  cousin, 
p  gpjj  while  they  were  levelling  the  ground-floor.  "  We 
have  a  good  part  of  the  materials  on  the  soil.  "We  will  bring 
the  stones  of  large  pattern  from  the  Blanc  cpuarries,  which  are 
only  a  few  kilometres  from  here.  Our  angles,  door  and 
window  frames,  our  borders,  cornices,  dormers,  gable-copings, 
shall  be  made  of  freestone.  Let  us  besrin  with  the  angles. 
This  is  how  you  will  order  Papa  Branchu  about  the  dress- 
ing of  the  stone ;  it  is  very  simple.  In  this  part  of  the 
country  they  cut  pattern-stones  ;  that  is,  the  quarries  send 
them  according  to  a  measure  given  in  advance,  and  the  price 
is  less  per  cube  according  as  the  cutting  is  more  uniform 
and  easy.  Xow  our  walls  are  GO  c.  in  thickness  in  the  height 
of  the  ground-floor.  Let  A  (Fig.  30)  be  an  angle ;  you  will 
order  all  the  stones  for  erecting  them  from  the  same  pattern, 
with  a  length  of  85  c.  by  a  width  of  GOc,  and  a  mean 
height  of  46  c,  which  is  the  ordinary  height  of  the  quarry 
banks  in  this  vicinity.     These  angle  stones  will  be  placed  as 


126 


THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 


I  show  you  here,  one  a  b  c  d,  the  other,  above,    a  ef  g,  whence 
it  will  result  that   each  stone  will  form  alternately,   on   one 


a 

i 

^ 

0 

A 

c 

f 

CK 

d 
9 

~> 

Fig.  30. 


side  and  the  other,  a  toothing-stone   of  25  c.      The  scappled 
ashlar   having   a   bank   height   of  about  15  c,  we  shall  have 


BUILDING  IN  ELEVATION.  127 

three  ranks  of  this  ashlar  in  the  height  of  each  stone  course, 
and  the  construction  will  rise  as  indicated  by  the  perspective 
tracing  B.  Between  the  looting  and  the  bordering  of  the 
first  floor  we  have  4  m.  20  c. ;  thus  nine  stone  courses,  besides 
the  layers,  will  make  the  height  Let  us  see  how  we  shall 
dispose  of  our  window-frames.  We  must  keep  the  placing 
of  blinds  in  mind,  as  these  cannot  be  dispensed  with  in  the 
country,  and  cannot  be  put  on  the  front  without  a  bad  effect, 
besides  that  they  would  quickly  deteriorate,  would  be  hard  to 
open  and  shut,  and  would  impose  on  the  occupants  the  neces- 
si'v  of  a  rather  unpleasant  species  of  gymnastics.  There 
must  be  sufficient  splayings  on  the  interior,  so  that  the  case- 
ments shall  not  Hush  the  walls,  and  shall  leave  a  space  between 
them  and  the  curtains.  Our  largest  windows  are  1  m.  26  c. 
between  the  frames  ;  our  ground-floor  walls  are  GO  c.  in  thick- 
ness; we  can  only,  then,  range  the  blinds  in  the  frames  by 
dividing  each  of  their  wings  into  two  or  three  leaves.  Sheet- 
iron  blinds  alone  will  enable  us  to  obtain  this  result,  since 
three  sheet-iron  plates  folded  on  each  other,  together  with 
the  spaces  left  for  the  working  of  the  hinges,  have  only  a 
thickness  of  5  c.  Observe,  then,  how  we  trace  the  window 
jambs  (Fig.  31)  ;  the  outside  being  at  A,  we  will  leave  a 
strengthening  piece  B,  to  mask  the  leaves  of  the  blinds  folded 
in  the  frames,  of  10  c.  We  will  give  27  c.  for  the  lodgement 
of  these  leaves  in  C.  Then  will  conic  the  window  sleeper, 
6  c.  in  thickness;  total,  4:'»  c.  There  will  then  remain  17  c. 
for  the  splaying  on  the  interior,  at  D. 


128 


THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 


buz  r 


fr 


I 


dP 


, 


it- 

f  1 


"  Observe,  in  i?,  how 
we  shall  dress  these  open- 
ings ;  a  supporting  stone 
in  one  block,  at  F,  then 
a  course  G  of  from  40  c. 
to  45  c.  in  height,  mak- 
ing a  toothing  in  the 
ashlar;  a  soft  stone,  H, 
having  only  the  same 
thickness  as  the  frame ;  a 
third  course,  I,  like  G ; 
finally,  the  lintel.  We 
i,  will  only  give  this  the 
thickness '  of  the  frame, 
that  is,  37  c. ;  there  will 
remain  to  us,  behind, 
23  c,  exactly  in  the  place 
to  key  in  a  brick  arch 
K  (the  bricks  being  22  c, 
and  with  the  joining, 
23  c).  This  arch  will 
carry, our  joists,  if  there 
are  any  to  be  put  in  on 
the  front  walls,  and  it 
will  prevent  the  breaking 
of  the   lintels.     Besides, 


Fig.  31. 


BUILDING  IN  ELEVATION.  I2g 


we  will  pass  a  grappling,  L,  under  the  latter.  I  find  a  grappling 
more  effective  at  this  level  than  at  the  height  of  the  ceiling. 
A  grappling  is  an  iron  sinew  which  is  placed  in  the  thickness 
of  walls  to  bind  and  clinch  the  whole  construction.  It  is  not 
always  placed  in  houses  built  in  the  country,  but  this  is  wrong, 
and  very  poor  economy  ;  an  ungrappled  construction  is  liable 
to  crack  easily.  But  we  will  speak  of  this  again  at  the  proper 
time.  Make  fair  copies  of  these  sketches  and  let  me  see 
them,  and  we  will  give   Papa   Branchu  the  details  we  have 


gone  over. 


*'  It  is  necessary  to  know  how  to  make  the  ceilings.  At  Paris 
they  nowadays  make  all  the  ceilings  of  iron,  double  T  square, 
and  for  spans  of  5  to  6  metres  they  take  iron  of  12  c.  to  14  c, 
the  vertical  section.  They  'pug'  or  rough- wall  this  iron 
spaced  at  intervals  of  about  70  c,  and  united  from  metre  to 
metre  by  square  iron  cross-pieces  of  0.018  m.,  by  fillings  of 
thin  plaster  work ;  this  is  certainly  good,  but  we  have  here 
neither  the  iron,  easily  procured  in  the  great  centres,  nor  the 
plaster  of  Paris,  which  is  somewhat  misused,  perhaps,  at  the 
capital,  but  which  is  none  the  less  an  excellent  material, 
especially  for  interiors,  when  wisely  employed.  "We  must 
make  our  ceilings  of  wood.  But  I  have  already  told  you 
that  wood  which  has  not  been  long  bathed  in  water,  and  has 
been  scarcely  two  years  cut,  rots  very  rapidly  when  closed  in, 
especially  at  its  extremities  fixed  in  the  walls.  "We  will  adopt, 
then,  the  ashlaring  system   applied   to   the   walls,  to   receive 


1 50 


THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 


the  ends  of  the  joists,  and  as  we  possess  unhewn  timber, 
we  will  content  ourselves  with  dressing  it  with  the  saw  on 
two  faces,  and  we  will  place  it  diagonally  as  I  show  you  here 
(Fig.  32).      For  the  spans  of  from  5  to  6  metres,  which  are 


J\  / 

f 

vv 

a-.' 

Fig.  32. 


the  largest  that  we  have,  square  wood  of  >18  c.  will  he  suffi- 
cient. If  we  judge  that  they  are  not,  we  will  establish  an 
intermediate  beam ;  this  remains  to  be  seen.  These  joists, 
placed  on  their  diagonal,  have  always  their  highest  resisting 
power  at  the  bending.     We  will  space  them,  from  axis  to  axis, 


BUILDING  IN  ELEVATION.  131 

at  50  c.  Their  extremities  will  lie  in  the  notches,  or  mortises, 
in  the  ashlaring,  as  I  show  at  A,  and  the  interjoists,  which 
are  the  intervals  between  the  joists,  shall  be  composed  of 
bricks  laid  flat,  pugged  with  mortar  and  coatings.  These 
ceilings  may  be  decorated  with  painted  fillets,  making  them 
light  and  agreeable  to  the  eye  (as  seen  in  II).  The  joists 
thus  established  do  not  give  re-entering  angles  difficult  to 
keep  clean  and  between  which  spiders  spin  their  webs. 

"As  for  the  ashlarings  B,  applied  against  the  wall,  as  the 
section  C  shows  you,  they  will  be  held  in  place  by  small 
corbels  D,  spaced  at  one  metre  at  most,  and  by  fastening 
cramps  /,  to  prevent  an  inclination  of  the  wood.  This  will 
take  the  place  of  those  plaster  cornicings,  which  are  good 
for  nothing,  and  which  we  could  not  conveniently  put  up 
here,  where  we  have  no  good  plasterers.  When  it  becomes 
necessary  to  support  the  upper  partitions,  we  will  place  an 
exceptional  joist,  a  section  of  which  I  trace  in  E,  composed 
of  two  pieces  a  and  b,  with  a  hoop-iron  between,  the  whole 
held  by  bolts  d  from  distance  to  distance.  These  kinds  of 
joists  are  of  a  perfect  rigidity. 

"As  the  joists  rest  upon  ashlarings,  we  have  no  need  to 
trouble  ourselves  about  openings;  but  we  must  have  'trim- 
mers' on  the  right  of  the  chimney  shafts  and  under  the 
hearths ;  and  to  receive  these  trimmers,  binding-joists  You 
will  see  that  pieces  of  wood  cannot  be  placed  without  danger 
under  the  hearths ;  so,  on  the  two  sides  of  the  rising  of  the 


132  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

chimneys,  at  a  distance  of  30  c.  of  the  hearthstones,  stronger 
joists  are  placed,  which  receive  80  c.  or  90  c.  of  the  wall ;  and 
to  clear  the  width  of  the  hearth,  a  piece  called  a  'trimmer,' 
in  which  are  gathered  the  joists. 

"As  binding-joists,  we  will  take  the  type  before  indicated 
at  E;  we  will  reinforce  (Fig.  33)  this  joist  at  its  extremity, 
by  a  lining  D,  resting  upon  a  good  stone  corbel.  We  will 
unite  the  two  pieces  E  and  D  by  an  iron  strap  F;  then  we 
will  join  the  trimmer  by  a  tenon  H  in  the  mortise  G.  This 
'  trimmer '  will  receive,  like  the  ashlarings,  the  extremities  of 
the  joists  at  /.  The  space  G  K  will  be  below  the  hearth 
of  the  upper  chimney ;  it  will  be  80  c.  in  width  and  will  be 
pugged,  with  brick,  to  the  iron  interjoists  L.  The  binding- 
joists  E  should  be  inserted  in  the  wall  about  10  c.  to  stiffen 
them  and  unite  the  structure ;  but  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
chimney  shafts  we  do  not  have  to  fear  the  effects  of  moisture 
on  the  wood.  Here  (Fig.  34)  is  the  aspect  of  these  joists 
and  '  trimmers '  under  the  chimney  hearthstones." 

All  this,  it  must  be  confessed,  seemed  somewhat  strange  to 
Paul,  accustomed  to  the  unchangeable  solid  and  white  ceiling, 
and  never  before  suspecting  that  these  simple  surfaces  could 
hide  so  complicated  a  structure. 


Fig.  33. 


Fio.  84. 


Fig.  33.— BINDING-JOISTS  AND  TRIMMERS.  — Pa 
,.  —PI  RSPE<  1  IVE  VIEW.      Page  132. 


SEVERAL   OBSERVATIONS.  1 33 


CHAPTEE   XII. 

PAUL    ADDRESSES    CERTAIN    OBSERVATIONS    TO    HIS    COUSIN,    AND 

RECEIVES    HIS   REPLIES. 


^AUL,  with   his   head   bent  over  his   paper  covered 


-ly^-i    with    sketchings,  his    hands    on    his    knees,    kept 


-;-,   thinking   to   himself  how  his    cousin   had   marked 


over  a  good  deal  of  paper  in  making  the  ceilings,  which  had 
always  seemed  to  him  the  simplest  thing  in  the  world. 
Paul  saw  little  distinction,  in  his  mind,  between  a  sheet  of 
paper  spread  upon  a  board,  and  a  ceiling.  When  his  cousin 
asked  him,  "  Do  you  quite  understand  ? "  Paul,  hesitating  a 
little,  said,  "I  think  so,"  and  added,  after  a  pause,  "but, 
cousin,  why  not  make  the  floorings  and  ceilings  as  else- 
where ? " 

"It  seems  complicated  to  you,  my  cousin,  and  you  wish 
to  simplify  the  task." 

"  It  is  not  entirely  that ;  but  how  are  they  usually  made  '. 
Are  all  these  means  used?  I  have  not  seen  any  of  these 
ashlavings,  binding-joists,  trimmers,  and  corbels  in  any  of  the 
ceilings   I   have  known;  cannot  they,  then,  be  omitted?" 

"None  of  these  are  omitted  in  ceilings  made  with  carpen- 


134  THE  STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

try,  but  they  are  concealed  under  a  plaster  coating  ;  and  as 
I  told  you,  this  plaster  envelope  is  one  of  the  causes  of  the 
ruin  of  wooden  floorings.  In  all  such  are  binding-joists  and 
trimmers  on  the  right  of  the  chimney-hearths ;  there  are  also 
sometimes  ashlarings:  all  this  is  joined  together  by  iron-work 
to  hold  it  between  two  plane  surfaces  having  between  them 
the  least  possible  thickness.  At  Paris,  where  the  houses  are 
very  dry,  this  method  is  still  in  use;  but  in  the  country  it 
is  difficult  to  avoid  the  moisture ;  these  sorts  of  shut-up 
floorings  are  in  danger  of  soon  falling  into  decay.  You  must 
ventilate  the  wood,  I  repeat,  to  preserve  it  for  any  length 
of  time.  This  anatomy  of  wooden  floorings  exists  in  all 
which  are  constructed  of  these  materials,  only  you  do  not 
see  it.  It  is  a  good  thing,  in  architecture,  to  make  use  of 
the  necessities  of  the  construction  as  a  means  of  decoration, 
and  to  frankly  admit  those  necessities.  There  is  nothing  to 
be  ashamed  of  in  leaving  them  to  be  seen,  and  it  is  an  evi- 
dence of  good  taste,  sense,  and  tact,  to  display  them,  in 
causing  them  to  contribute  to  the  adornment  of  the  work. 
To  tell  the  truth,  this  sort  of  decoration  is  the  only  satisfac- 
tory one  to  people  of  sense  and  taste,  since  there  is  a 
motive  in  it. 

"  We  are  accustomed,  in  France,  to  judge  of  everything, 
above  all,  of  matters  of  art,  with  what  is  called  '  senti- 
ment,' It  is  convenient  for  a  certain  number  of  persons  who 
meet,  to  talk  about  matters  of  art  without   ever  having  held 


SEVERAL   OBSERVATIONS.  135 

a  compass,  a  pencil,  a  boaster,  or  a  brush,  and  the  artists 
themselves  have  got  somewhat  tired  of  reasoning,  finding  it 
more  simple  to  agree  with  these  amateurs,  who  use  up  pages 
in  saying  nothing,  and  flatter  here  and  there  the  public  taste 
in  misleading  it. 

"Little  by  little  the  architects  themselves,  who,  of  all 
artists,  must  rely  most  carefully  upon  reasoning  in  their  con- 
ceptions, became  accustomed  to  neglect  all  for  appearances, 
and  not  to  attempt  to  reconcile  these  with  the  necessities 
of  the  structure.  Soon  these  necessities  troubled  them,  and 
they  hid  them  so  well,  that  what  I  will  call  the  skeleton 
of  a  building  was  no  longer  in  harmony  with  its  envelope. 
There  is  the  structure  which  is  often  left  to  contractors, 
who  get  out  of  it  as  they  can,  but  naturally  attending  to 
their  interests,  and  the  form  which  is  applied  for  good  or 
evil  to  this  structure.  Well,  with  your  permission  we  will  not 
follow  this  example,  and  we  will  make  a  building,  however 
modest  it  may  be,  in  which  no  detail  can  be  found  which  is 
not  the  result,  either  of  a  necessity  of  the  structure,  or  the 
needs  of  its  occupants.  It  will  cost  us  no  more,  and  when 
it  is  finished  we  will  rest  quietly,  as  we  shall  have  nothing- 
concealed,  nothing  artificial,  nothing  useless,  and  the  edifice 
we  shall  have  built  will  always  permit  us  to  see  its  organs, 
and  how  these  organs  work." 

"  How  is  it,  then,"  said  Paul,  "  that  so  many  architects 
do   not   show,  as  vou  wish    to    do   here,  these   necessities    of 


136  THE   STORY  OF  A  HOUSE. 

construction,   but   hide   them,  and  —  why   do   they   do   this  ? 
What  motive  have  they  ? " 

"  It  would  take  a  long  time  to  explain  that  to  you." 

M.  de  Gandelau  came  in  at  this  moment. 

"  The  news  is  worse  and  worse,"  said  he.  "  The  German 
army  is  spreading  everywhere  ;  we  must  prepare  to  see  the 
enemy  here.     Poor  France  !     But  what  were  you  saying  1 " 

"Nothing  of  interest,"  said  the  cousin,  "compared  with  our 
disasters.  I  was  trying  to  make  Paul  understand  that,  in 
architecture,  none  of  the  means  of  structure  should  be  hid- 
den, and  that  it  is  for  the  interest  of  the  art  to  make  use 
of  them  for  decorative  purposes ;  in  a  word,  that  we  must  be 
sincere,  reason,  and  trust  only  in  ourselves." 

"  Surely,"  resumed  M.  de  Gandelau,  "  you  put  your  finger 
upon  our  most  vital  sore.  To  reason,  to  trust  in  one's  self 
alone,  to  take  account  of  each  thing,  each  fact,  by  labor 
and  study,  to  leave  nothing  to  chance,  to  examine  every- 
thing, to  hide  nothing  from  one's  self  or  others,  not  to  take 
phrases  for  facts,  not  to  consider  ourselves  protected  by  tra- 
dition or  custom,  —  yes,  that  is  what  should  have  been  done. 
It  is  too  late.  And  who  knows  if,  after  the  misfortunes 
which  I  foresee,  our  country  will  recover  ■  enough  elasticity, 
patience,  and  wisdom,  to  leave  sentiment  behind,  and  adhere 
to  reason  and  serious  work  ?  Try  to  teach  Paul  to  reason, 
to  accustom  himself  to  method ;  try  to  give  him  a  love  of 
mental    labor ;  and    whether    he    becomes    an    architect,    an 


SEVERAL   OBSERVATIONS.  1 37 

engineer,  a  soldier,  a  manufacturer,  or  a  farmer  like  myself, 
you  will  have  rendered  him  the  greatest  service.  Above  all, 
let  him  not  become  a  half-scholar,  half-artist,  or  half-worker, 
writing  and  talking  about  everything,  and  incapable  of  doing 
anything  for  himself.  Work !  The  worse  the  news  which 
we  receive,  the  more  it  -weighs  upon  our  hearts,  the  more 
necessary  it  is  to  attach  ourselves  to  a  useful  and  prac- 
tical labor.     Lamentations  are  of  no  use.    Work  !  " 

"  Let  us  go  and  visit  the  work-yard,"  said  the  cousin,  who 
saw  that  Paul  was  pensive  and  little  disposed  to  return  to 
his  task. 


138  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 


CHAPTEE    XIII. 


THE  VISIT   TO   THE  WORK-YARD. 

fy~C/-->rf^  HE   building   was   beginning    to   take   shape,    and 

1 


-j.  '    the  plan  to  appear  above  the   soil.     Twenty   ma- 


£  sons  and  stone-cutters,  four  carpenters,  and  a 
number  of  boys  gave  life  to  this  corner  of  the  estate.  Then 
came  carts  full  of  bricks,  sand,  and  lime.  Two  long  saws 
cut  up  the  trunks  of  trees  into  joists ;  a  small  movable  forge, 
sheltered  behind  a  copse  of  trees,  was  lighted  and  repaired 
the  tools,  until  it  was  ready  to  forge  straps,  cramps,  feet, 
stays,  and  bands.  A  fine  autumn  sun  spread  a  warm  and 
slightly  veiled  light  over  the  work-yard.  This  spectacle 
effaced  from  Paul's  mind  the  sad  impressions  left  by  his 
father's  words.  Under  this  aspect  the  work  did  not  seem 
to  take  the  severe  and  harsh  forms  which  had  at  first  some- 
what scared  our  scholar  in  vacation.  An  attentive  inspec- 
tor, Paul  followed  his  cousin  upon  the  building  site,  and 
listened  to  his  observations  with  great  care. 

"  Here,  Papa  Branchu,"  said  the  cousin,  —  "  here  is  a  stone 
which  must  not  be  laid  down ;  it  has  a  flaw,  and  as  it  is 
going  to  serve  as  a  lintel,  I  do  not  wish  it." 


i  mi    SIT1         i' 


THE    VISIT   TO    THE    WORK-YARD.  1 39 

"  Eh,  Monsieur  Architect,  the  flaw  does  not  extend  very 
far." 

"  Whether  it  does  or  not,  I  don't  wish  it.  Do  you  un- 
derstand ?  Paul,  you  will  see  to  it  that  this  stone  is  not 
laid.  You  see  this  little  crack  which  is  hardly  apparent  ; 
strike  the  two  sides  with  this  hammer.  Good  !  The  sound 
which  the  stone  gives  on  this  side  is  dead ;  that  shows  you 
that  there  is  a  solution  of  continuity,  and  that,  aided  by 
the  frost,  this  piece  on  the  right  will  detach  itself  from 
the  rest.  Here  are  bricks  which  you  must  not  have  used. 
See  how  they  are  cracked ;  then  these  white  spots,  —  they 
are  bits  of  limestone,  which  the  fire  has  converted  into 
lime.  By  the  action  of  moisture  these  bits  of  lime  swell 
and  burst  the  brick.  You  will  take  care,  before  letting  the 
bricks  be  used,  to  have  them  well  moistened.  Those  which 
contain  parts  of  lime  will  fall  to  pieces,  and  will  not,  there- 
fore, be  put  in  the  work." 

"  But,  good  sir,"  said  Papa  Branchu,  "  it 's  not  my  fault ; 
I  do  not  make  the  bricks." 

"  No ;  but  it  is  your  duty  to  send  those  which  are  defec- 
tive back  to  the  lime-burner,  and  not  pay  him  for  them,  for 
it  is  your  business  to  furnish  them  ;  that  will  teach  him  to 
purge  his  earth  of  bits  of  limestone.  Here  is  some  sand 
which  contains  clay  ;  see  how  it  sticks  to  the  fingers !  Papa 
Branchu,  I  wish  for  none  but  good  sand,  very  rough  ;  you 
know    well    enough    where    there    is    some.      You    have    had 


140  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

this  taken  elsewhere,  and  it  is  only  good  for  putting  in  the 
haunches  of  the  cellar  vaults  for  filling;  be  sure  and  not 
have  it  used  in  the  mortar.  For  mortar,  Paul,  you  must 
have  sand  which  is  very  granulated  and  clean,  the  grains 
of  which  do  not  stick  together;  and  before  using  it,  several 
buckets  of  water  should  be  thrown  upon  the '  heaps.  Look 
to  it,  also,  that  they  do  not  puddle  the  mortar  on  the  earth, 
but  on  a  platform  of  joists.  You  have  done  so ;  very  well ; 
it  must  not  be  done  otherwise.  If  you  are  in  a  hurry,  and 
your  platform  is  not  large  enough,  make  another.  Fay 
attention  also,  Paul,  that  the  stones  are  all  put  in  a  mortar- 
bed." 

"  0,  be  easy  on  that  score,  sir ;  I  do  not  do  otherwise." 
"  Yes,  I  know,  for  basement  construction  and  hard  stone 
it  goes  all  right ;  but  in  elevations  your  workmen  usually 
place  the  stones  on  props  and  plaster  them  with  clear  mor- 
tar, which  is  more  quickly  done.  Pay  strict  attention  to 
this,  Paul.  All  the  stones  ought  to  be  put  in  their  places, 
on  thick  props  in  the  form  of  a  wedge,  leaving  a  vacant 
space  of  six  or  eight  centimetres ;  the  mortar  should  be 
spread  beneath  over  the  whole  surface  to  a  thickness  of  nearly 
two  centimetres  ;  then  the  four  props  must  be  taken  away, 
and  the  stone,  resting  on  the  mortar,  must  be  beaten  down 
with  a  heavy  mass  of  wood  until  the  joining  is  only  a  cen- 
timetre thick  at  all  points,  and  the  excess  of  mortar  has 
overflowed  all  around. 


THE    VISIT   TO    THE    WORK-YARD.  141 

"  Here  are  some  meagre  layers,  Papa  Branchu ;  they  must 
be  re-cut." 

"  What  is  a  meagre  layer  ? "  asked  Paul  of  his  cousin,  un- 
der his  breath. 

"  It  is  a  setting  layer,  concave." 

Taking  his  memorandaum-book  the  cousin  continued:  — 

"Here  you  see  that,  if  the  layer  of  a  stone  gives  the  sec- 
tion A  B  (Fig.  36),  the  middle,  C,  being  more   hollow    than 


1   , 


'%, //I 


w/////m///////////A. 


3 


/0//////////77//////////7r 


q  mw/'//////////',zt%$. 


Fio.  36. 

the  borders,  the  stone  lies  on  the  latter  only  ;  hence,  if  the 
weight  is  a  tolerably  heavy  one,  the  ends  D  E  break.  It  is 
better  that  the  layers  should  be  made  as  I  trace  in  G,  and 
should  not  bear  upon  their  edges.  So  far,  Papa  Branchu,  you 
have  raised  your  constructions  with  inclined  planes ;  but 
we  are  getting  up  ;  scaffoldings  will  soon  be  necessary. 

"  Since  we  are  building  with  scappled  stone,  only  putting 
freestone  above  the  basement,  at  the  angles  and  the  frames 
of  the  windows  and    doors,  you  will  leave   putlog  holes   be- 


142  THE  STORY   OF  A   HOUSE. 

tween  these  scappled  stones.  Then  you  will  only  have  a 
care  for  trussels  and  putlogs.  For  the  mounting,  the  car- 
penter will  send  you  a  gang  of  men,  and  you  will  use  the 
hoist  which  I  shall  have  sent  you  from  Chateauroux,  which 
1  have  no  other  use  for  just  now." 

"  If  it 's  the  same  to  you,  Monsieur  Architect,  I  should 
prefer  our  machinery." 

"  What !  your  devil  of  a  wheel,  in  which  you  put  two 
men,  like  squirrels  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  As  you  wish ;  but  I  shall  nevertheless  send  for  the 
hoist ;   you  shall  try  it." 

"  As  a  fact,"  whispered  the  cousin  to  Paul,  "  his  '  ma- 
chinery,' which  dates,  I  verily  believe,  from  the  Tower  of 
Babel,  raises  the  weights,  when  they  are  not  too  heavy,  much 
more  easily  than  do  our  engines ;  and  as  we  have  no  very 
large  stoDes  to  raise,  we  will  not  quarrel  with  him  on  this 
point." 

Turning  to  the  master  mason,  he  continued,  — 

"  It  is  agreed,  Papa  Branchu,  that  we  do  not  make  any 
rough-coatings,  except  for  some  very  delicate  mouldings,  for 
chamfers,  if  there  is  room ;  you  will  place  your  stones  all 
cut,  and  there  will  only  be  here  and  there  some  overplus  to 
take  off." 

"Agreed,  sir  ;   it  was  my  intention." 

"  So  much  the  better." 


THE    VISIT   TO   THE    WORK-YARD.  1 43 

Addressing  Paul,  the  cousin  continued  :  — 

"  I  know  nothing  worse  than  the  custom  which  prevails 
in  some  large  cities  of  rough-coating  buildings.  Large  blocks 
are  laid  down  ;  when  all  is  mounted,  these  formless  masses 
are  cut,  pared,  clipped,  scraped,  moulded,  and  sculptured,  most 
often  despite  the  dressing;  without  counting  that  the  hard 
and  resisting  crust  which,  especially  on  soft  stone,  is  formed 
on  its  surface  when  it  is  freshly  cut  after  leaving  the  quarry, 
is  thus  taken  off,  —  a  crust  which  is  never  re-formed  when 
the  materials  have  once  produced  it,  and  have  thrown  upon 
it  what  is  called  their  'quarry  water.'  Happily,  in  many  of 
our  provinces,  the  excellent  habit  of  cutting  each  stone  in 
the  yard,  once  for  all,  according  to  the  definite  form  it  is  to 
preserve,  is  maintained ;  and,  once  laid,  the  stone-cutters' 
tools  touch  it  no  more.  Besides  the  advantage  of  which  I 
have  just  spoken,  this  method  demands  more  care  and  atten- 
tion on  the  part  of  the  dressers,  and  it  is  not  then  possible 
to  make  the  layers  or  joinings  pass  at  random.  Each  stone 
should  thus  have  its  function  and  a  form  convenient  to  its 
place.  Then,  when  a  construction  is  raised,  it  is  finished; 
there  is  nothing  to  go  back  to.  It  must  be  added  that  this 
method  demands  of  the  architect  a  complete  and  finished 
study  of  each  part  of  the  work,  according  as  he  furnishes 
the  orders  for  the  various  parts  of  the  structure." 


144  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

PAUL   SEES   THE  NECESSITY   OF  PERFECTING    HIMSELF   IN   THE   ART 

OF   DESIGNING. 

if3?SS^NE  thing  surprised  Paul ;  the  facility  with  which 
f-.sjlf  his  cousin  expressed,  by  a  few  pencil-strokes, 
^^z^M\  whatever  he  wished  to  have  understood.  His 
sketches  in  perspective,  above  all,  seemed  wonderful;  and  our 
embryo  architect,  when  alone,  tried  to  indicate  on  paper  the 
figures  pertaining  to  his  study  ;  but  to  his  great  disappoint- 
ment he  only  produced  a  confused  series  of  lines,  which  he 
himself  could  not  comprehend  a  quarter  of  an  hour  after  he 
had  drawn  them.  Still  he  knew  that,  in  making  out  the  cal- 
culations which  his  cousin  deemed  of  such  importance,  the 
methods  employed  by  his  master  would  be  of  great  service  to 
him,  if  he  could  only  succeed  in  making  use  of  them. 

One  day,  after  passing  several  hours  on  the  ground,  trying 
to  take  account,  by  sketches,  of  the  figure  of  the  cut  stones, 
without  being  able  to  obtain  any  satisfactory  results,  Paul 
went  to  his  cousin's  room. 

"  I  find,"  said  he,  "  that  what  I  have  been  taught  in  linear 
drawing  is  not  sufficient  to  enable  me  to  represent  in  figures, 


THE  ART  OF  DESIGNING.  145 

upon  paper,  what  you  have  explained  to  me  so  rapidly  by 
means  of  sketches ;  teach  me,  then,  cousin,  how  to  clearly 
reproduce  what  I  have  before  my  eyes,  or  what  I  desire  to 
explain." 

"  I  like  to  see  you  desirous  of  learning,  little  cousin ;  it  is 
half  the  task  done.  But  it  is  only  the  half,  and  that  the 
least  difficult  half.  I  cannot  teach  you  in  a  week,  nor  even 
in  six  months,  the  art  of  easily  designing  the  objects  you  see, 
or  those  which  you  imagine  in  your  mind  ;  but  I  will  show 
you  the  method  to  follow,  and  with  much  labor  and  time 
you  will  reach,  if  not  perfection,  at  least  clearness  and  pre- 
cision. .  To  design  is  not  to  see  a  thing,  but  to  observe  it. 
All  who  are  not  blind,  see ;  yet  how  many  people  are  there 
who  know  how  to  see,  or  who  reflect  as  they  see  ?  Very 
few,  assuredly,  because  we  are  not  taught  in  infancy  the 
habit  of  this  exercise.  All  animals  of  a  higher  order  see,  as 
we  do,  because  they  have  eyes  for  the  most  part  very  like 
our  own  ;  they  have  even  the  memory  of  the  eyes,  since  they 
recognize  the  objects  or  beings  they  love,  fear,  or  that  they 
make  their  prey.  But  I  do  not  think  that  the  animals  take 
note  of  bodies  or  surfaces  otherwise  than  by  a  faculty  of  in- 
stinct, and  without  the  intervention  of  what  we  call  reason. 
Many  people  like  us  see  in  the  same  way;  and  it  is  their 
fault,  for  they  are  able  to  reason.  But  we  are  not  talking 
of   that.     This  is  the  method  I  propose  to  you. 

"You  know  what  a  triangle  is,  and  what  a  square  is;  you 


146  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

have  studied  elementary  geometry,  and  you  seem  to  know  it 
tolerably  well,  as  I  have  observed  that  you  have  understood 
the  plans,  sections,  and  even  the  projections  of  bodies  on  a 
vertical  or  horizontal  plane,  my  sketches  having  been  intelli- 
gible to  you.  Now,  you  will  take  some  playing-cards,  and 
after  tracing,  according  to  any  scale  you  like,  the  various 
faces  of  a  stone  which  you  will  see  cut,  upon  each  of  them 
you  will  cut  these  surfaces  with  a  pair  of  scissors  ;  and  by 
the  aid  of  strips  of  paper  and  some  paste  you  will  bring 
them  together  so  as  to  represent  this  or  that  piece  of  the  cut 
stones.  This  little  model  will  then  be  familiar  to  you  ;  you 
will  know  how  its  surfaces  are  joined  and  what  angles  they 
form.  In  the  evening  you  will  place  these  models  before 
you  in  all  sorts  of  ways,  and  you  will  copy  them  as  they 
present  themselves  to  your  eyes,  taking  care  to  indicate,  by 
a  dotting,  the  lines  of  the  reunion  of  the  surfaces  you  do 
not  see.  See,  here  on  my  table  is  a  wooden  rhomboid,  which, 
as  you  know  and  observe,  is  composed  of  six  similar  and 
equal  faces,  the  sides  of  which  are  equal,  each  of  the  faces 
giving  two  equilateral  triangles  united  at  the  base  (Fig.  37). 
I  take,  you  see,  this  body  between  my  fingers  by  its  two 
ends ;  if  I  show  it  to  you  so  that  one  of  the  faces  is  paral- 
lel to  the  plane  of  vision,  the  other  two  faces  present  them- 
selves obliquely,  as  in  A  ;  you  see,  then,  three  faces,  but 
there  are  three  others  behind,  which  you  do  not  see.  How 
would  they  present  themselves  if  the  body  were  transparent, 


THE  ART  OF  DESIGNING. 


147 


as  the  dotted  lines  indicate  ?  If  I  turn  the  rhomboid  between 
my  fingers,  so  that  two  faces  are  perpendicular  to  the  plane 
of  vision,  thus  (as  in  B),  I  shall  see  only  two  faces  ;  two 
others  will  be  hidden  from  me,  and  two  following  the  two 
lines  ah,  cd.  Now  I  present  the  rhomboid  so  that  neither 
of  its  faces  are  parallel  or  perpendicular  to  the  plane  of 
vision,  thus  (as  in  C).  Well,  I  shall  still  see  three  faces, 
but   in   foreshortening,  distorted   by  the   perspective,  and   the 


other  three  will  be  indicated  by  the  dotted  lines.  Make, 
then,  in  the  evening,  as  many  little  models  as  you  can,  re- 
producing the  stones  you  have  seen  in  the  work-yard,  and 
copy  these  little  models  in  every  way.  Throw  them  at  haz- 
ard on  the  table,  several  together,  and  copy  what  you  see ; 
indicate  what  is  concealed  from  you  by  dotted  lines.  When 
you  have  done  this  for  a  week,  many  difficulties  will  have 
already  become  familiar  to  you.     After  that,  we  will  see." 


148 


THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 


This  method  delighted  Paul,  and  he  at  once  went  to  work, 
by  aid  of  some  of  his  abstracts,  to  make  a  little  model  of 
one  of  the  stones  the  faces  of  which  he  had  measured.  It 
was  the  "  summer "  of  an  arch  with  square  facing.  He  ob- 
tained with  some  difficulty  a  very  fair  little  card  model 
which  he  proudly  placed  on  the  family  table  after  dinner, 
first  copying  it  on  the  lower  surface,  and  then  placing  it  in 
different  ways    (Fig.    38).     He  would   have  continued   at   his 


Fig.  38. 

task  all  night,  so  wrapt  up  was  he  in  it,  had  not  Madame 
de  Gandelau  admonished  him  to  retire,  at  eleven  o'clock. 
Paul  found  it  hard  to  get  to  sleep,  and  his  dreams  were  full 
of  complicated  card  models,  which  he  tried  in  vain  to  bring 
together.  He  rose  late  next  morning,  and,  going  into  his 
cousin's  room,  told  him  of  the  uneasy  night  he  had  passed, 
as  an  excuse  for  his  tardiness. 

"Good!"  said  the  cousin;  "you  have  the  fever  of  descrip- 
tive geometry,  —  so  much  the  better;  it  is  only  well  learned 


THE  ART  OF  DESIGNING.  149 

when  one  has  a  passion  for  it.  We  will  work  at  it  together 
when  the  cold  snaps  suspend  our  constructions,  and  bad 
weather  shuts  us  in-doors.  An  architect  must  learn  to  make 
use  of  descriptive  geometry,  as  one  writes  orthography,  with- 
out stopping  to  ponder  over  it.  Perspective  must  be  abso- 
lutely familiar  to  him.  You  cannot  learn  one  or  the  other 
too  soon,  and  it  is  only  in  early  youth  that  these  things  can 
be  so  acquired  that  it  will  not  be  needful  to  think  of  them, 
should  you  live  a  century.  You  are  a  good  swimmer,  and 
if  you  fall  into  the  water,  it  is  needless  to  tell  you  by  what 
movements  you  may  keep  on  the  surface  and  guide  your- 
self. Well,  it  is  in  this  way  that  you  must  know  geom- 
etry and  perspective.  Only  you  must  give  more  time  to 
the  practice  of  this  essential  branch  of  our  art,  than  to  learn- 
ing to  swim  like  a  frog." 


150  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 


CHAPTEE    XV. 


THE   STUDY   OF   THE   STAIRCASES. 


iT  was  time  to  consider  the  details  necessary  to  the 

IHil   execution  of  the  staircases.     The  cousin   had   told 

I 
lM{  Paul  to  prepare  them ;  but  Paul,  as  might  he  sup- 
posed, had  only  furnished  a  number  of  confused   sketches,  as 
unintelligible  to  others  as  to  himself,  despite  the  hints  afford- 
ed him  by  the  master  architect. 

"  Come,"  said  the  cousin,  "  let  us  work  at  this  together. 
Papa  Branchu  and  the  carpenter  ask  for  instructions.  Let 
us  first  take  the  great  staircase,  and  mark  out  its  cage,  or 
envelope.  We  have,  as  the  height  of  the  ground-floor,  com- 
prising the  thickness  of  the  flooring,  4  m.  50  c. ;  the  steps 
should  only  be  15  c.  in  height  each  ;  we  must  therefore  have 
thirty  steps  to  reach  the  level  of  the  first  floor  from  that  of 
the  ground-floor.  Each  step  should  be  from  25  c.  to  30  c. 
in  width,  to  give  an  easy  ascent.  Thirty  steps,  then,  give 
7  m.  50  c.  or  9  m.  of  development.  I  believe  I  told  you 
this  when  we  made  the  plan  of  the  ground-floor.  If  we 
take  the  middle  of  the  space  reserved  for  the  steps,  on  our 
plan,   we   find  just   9    m.     Tracing   the    steps,  then,    on    this 


■  li 


-,10 


F'ff-  39. —OUTLINE    OF   THE   MAIN    STAIRCASE.  —  P.itfc  130. 


THE   STUDY  OF   THE   STAIRCASES.  151 

middle  line,  and  giving  them  275  millimetres  of  stepping 
space,  we  may  find  two  landing-places  in  the  angles  at  A, 
A'  (Fig.  39) ;  we  will  make  the  steps  wind  in  such  a  way 
as  to  avoid  sharp  angles  near  the  newel.  The  first  step  will 
be  at  B,  the  last  at  C.  At  D  we  will  make,  under  the  step- 
grooves,  the  partition  which  will  enable  us  to  establish  the 
water- closet  at  A'.  As,  at  this  landing-place  A',  we  have 
ascended  18  steps  (each  15  c.  in  height),  we  shall  have 
for  the  water-closet  2  m.  50  c.  under  the  ceiling,  which  is 
more  than  sufficient.  We  will  light  it  by  a  window  E.  The 
two  openings  F  will  Tight  the  staircase,  and,  as  the  elevation 
indicates,  will  follow  the  level  of  the  steps.  Tor  there  is 
nothing  more  ridiculous  and  inconvenient  than  to  cut  off 
the  windows  by  the  steps  of  a  staircase,  and  though  this  is 
done  every  day  in  dwelling-houses,  it  is  a  folly  which  every 
builder  ought  to  avoid.  From  the  servants'  corridor  G,  the 
water-closet  is  reached  by  the  door  H. 

"Let  us  now  trace  the  elevation,  or  rather  vertical  projec- 
tion, of  this  staircase.  This  is  how  to  proceed :  the  cage  is 
traced  in  elevation  ;  then  the  height  of  the  ascent  is  divided 
into  as  many  parts  as  there  are  to  be  steps,  as  I  do  in  /. 
Projecting  these  divisions  horizontally  on  the  elevation,  and, 
vertically,  the  ends  of  the  steps  with  the  cage  and  the 
newel,  you  obtain,  by  the  meeting  of  these  two  projections, 
the  tracing  of  the  steps  along  the  cage  and  against  the 
newel. 


152  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

"Suppose  that  to  be  done.  The  last  step  is  then  at  K,  at 
the  level  of  the  flooring  of  the  first  floor.  To  ascend  to  the 
second  floor,  we  have  4  m.  to  ascend  from  one  flooring  to 
the  other ;  giving  0.156  in.  to  each  step,  we  get  26  steps 
plus  the  fraction  of  a  millimetre,  which  it  is  not  worth 
while  to  count.  Then  we  will  preserve,  'on  the  plan,  the 
tracing  of  the  first  revolution,  leaving  the  step  d,  which 
gives  13  steps  to  the  point  M.  From  this  point  we  will 
trace  the  13  other  steps  to  make  the  number  26,  as  I  mark 
on  the  end  of  the  supplementary  plan  at  N.  Then,  for  the 
elevation,  we  will  proceed  as  before.  We  shall  thus  obtain 
the  general  tracing  from  F  to  X  for  the  two  floors.  This 
established,  we  must  know  with  what  material  these  steps 
shall  be  made.  As  they  are  comprised  between  walls  and 
a  newel,  which  is  itself  a  wall,  we  can,  if  we  wish,  make 
them  of  freestone,  of  a  single  piece  each.  However,  this  is 
scarcely  practicable  here,  because  it  is  hard  for  us  to  procure 
any  hard,  compact,  fine  stone  proper  for  the  purpose.  We 
will  therefore  content  ourselves  with  making  the  first  step 
only  of  stone,  and  the  others  in  carpentry-work,  covering 
them  with  good  oaken  shelves ;  and,  in  order  not  to  fix  them 
in  the  walls,  we  will  have  a  projecting  string-course  in  ma- 
sonry, forming  a  rack  along  the  walls  and  the  newel,  to 
receive  the  part  of  their  butt-ends,  as  I  show  you  (Fig.  40). 
These  steps,  left  rough  underneath,  will  be  lathed,  and  will 
be  planed  only   on  the  face,  or   vertical  side,  A.     That   they 


THE   STUDY  OF   THE   STAIRCASES. 


153 


may  not  be  shaken  from  their  support  of  masonry,  we  will 
fasten  them  with  cramps  B,  which  will  be  masked  by  the 
shelf  forming  the  step,  and  will  enter  the  holes  C. 


Fig.  40. 

"  As  for  the  servants'  spiral  staircase,  we  will  make  it  of 
hard  stone,  each  step  carrying  the  newel,  as  I  show  you  in 
Fig.  41. 

"Now  try  to  write  this  out  clearly,  so  that  we  may 
promptly  give  the  details  to  the  masons  and  the  carpenter." 

Paid  succeeded,  with  some  difficulty,  in  making  a  tolera- 
bly accurate  tracing  according  to  the  indications  furnished 
by  his  cousin ;  but  the  latter  was  obliged  to  frequently  make 


154 


THE   STORY  OF  A  HOUSE. 


corrections,  for  his  inspector  was  not  too  skilful  in  element- 
ary descriptive  geometry,  and  the  projections  gave  him  diffi- 
culty  at  every   step.     Paul   got   confused   in    his   lines,   took 


Fig.  41. 


one  point  for  another,  and  would  have  more  than  once  thrown 
aside  his  compass,  square,  and  ruler,  had  his  cousin  not  heen 
there  to  set  him  on  the  right  path  again. 


CRITICISM.  155 


CHAPTER    XVI 


CRITICISM. 


I 


T  was  towards  the  end  of  November ;  but  the 
Ul  weather  had,  so  far,  permitted  our  builders  to  make 
the  most  of  their  time.  The  autumn  sun  favored 
their  project,  and  the  house  had  already  risen,  at  several 
points,  to  the  height  of  the  lintels  of  the  ground-floor  win- 
dows. Still,  it  required  all  M.  de  Gandelau's  energy  to 
prevent  the  works  from  being  abandoned.  The  little  work- 
yard  was  gradually  deserted  by  able  workmen,  called  to  follow 
the  flag.  Those  who  remained  lost  time  and  let  their  thoughts 
wander  elsewhere.  There  could  be  little  carting,  for  all  the 
horses  and  carts  came  under  military  requisition.  The  country 
was  furrowed  by  troops  taking  their  way  towards  the  Loire. 
Many  hours  were  passed  in  talking,  and  every  one  anxiously 
awaited  news  of  the  war.  It  became  every  day  more  gloomy. 
Still,  Orleans  had  been  reoccupied  by  the  French  troops,  and 
all  hope  did  not  seem  yet  lost.  Paris  still  held  out.  Mean- 
while, a  new  personage  arrived  at  M.  de  Gandelau's  chateau  ;  a 
friend  of  the  family,  whose  property  had  been  occupied  and 
devastated  by  the  Germans,  and  who  had  abandoned  it,  fearful 


156  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

of  still  worse  calamities.  He  had  directed  his  steps  towards 
Western  France,  where  he  had  relatives,  and  on  his  way 
stopped  at  M.  de  Gandelau's.  He  was  a  man  between  fifty 
and  sixty,  tall,  with  a  rather  cold  manner,  though  a  perpetual 
smile  seemed  stereotyped  on  his  face.  He  might  have  been 
taken  for  an  old-fashioned  diplomatist. 

The  new-comer  had  read  and  travelled  much,  knew  a  little 
of  everything,  belonged  to  several  learned   societies,  and  his 
opinion  was  greatly  respected  in  his  own  neighborhood.     He 
had  been  a  candidate  for  the  Assembly,  had  engaged  in  indus- 
trial  enterprises,  in   which  he  had  lost  large  sums,  then   in 
agriculture  ;  and  the  remainder  of  his  fortune  being  in  peril  of 
becoming  ingulfed,  he  contented  himself  with  the  theoretical 
aspect  of  affairs,  and  wrote  pamphlets  on  all  sorts  of  subjects, 
which  he  printed  at  his  own  expense,  and  scattered  broadcast. 
Each  of  his  works  pretended  invariably  to  give  a  simple  solu- 
tion to  all  difficulties,  whether  in  politics,  science,  industry, 
commerce,  or  even  the  arts.     He  had  built  houses,  and  as  it 
seemed  to  him  that  architects  were  quite  unfit  to  practise  the 
art  of  construction,  being  expensive  and  imbued  with  preju- 
dices,  he    had    himself   taken   charge  of  the  building   opera- 
tions ;    making    his     own    contracts,    treating    directly    with 
suppliers,  giving  the  plans,  and  supervising  the  works.     This 
fancy  had  cost  him  very  dear,  and  one  fine  clay  his  building 
fell  down.      Engineers  not  enjoying  his  confidence  any  more 
than  architects,  he  had  traced  out   roads  on  his  estates,  and 


CRITICISM.  157 


had  them  executed  according  to  a  system  of  his  own.  His 
attempts  in  this  direction  were  not  more  successful  than  his 
essays  at  construction.  The  roads  persisted  in  being  im- 
practicable. But  M.  Durosay  (that  was  his  name)  was  one  of 
those  persons  whom  experience  teaches  little,  even  when  the 
lesson  is  at  their  expense.  For  the  rest,  he  was  an  honest 
man,  excessively  polite,  obliging,  even  generous ;  above  all  to 
those  who  had  the  artfulness  to  flatter  his  eccentricities,  and 
who,  by  interest  or  conviction,  regarded  him  as  an  infallible 
judge  on  every  subject. 

'  If  any  one  came  to  him  to  consult  on  any  matter  just  as  he 
was  about  to  take  a  train,  he  would  rather  let  the  train  00 
than  not  to  give  his  decision  on  it  at  length.  Only  he  judged 
of  everything  on  an  a  priori  system,  and  heard  with  inattentive 
ear  the  special  reasons  which  might  tend  to  modify  it,  But 
he  admitted  discussion  freely,  and  was  not  in  the  least 
impatient  with  those  who  did  not  agree  with  him.  He  often 
repeated  this  aphorism:  "Light  bursts  from  the  collision  of 
contrary  ideas  " ;  but  he  always  meant  to  furnish  it  himself, 
and  never  to  receive  it. 

When  he  had  been  duly  installed  in  the  chateau  for  some 
hours,  and  the  sad  topics  of  conversation  which  were  the 
order  of  the  day  had  been  exhausted,  and  when  the  talk 
turned  on  Paul's  house  (as  it  was  called  in  the  family),  M. 
Durosay  asked  to  see  the  plans. 

"  I  know  something  of  building,"  said  he  ;  "  I  know  what 
it  is." 


158  THE  STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

The  cousin  smiled,  which  the  new-comer  did  not  resent, 
his  misadventures  in  building  having  left  no  bitterness  in 
his  mind. 

"  Ah,  this  is  very  well ! "  said  M.  Durosay,  when  the  plans 
had  been  explained  to  him  and  he  had  examined  them;  "I 
have  seen  houses  in  Belgium  something  like  this.  There  are 
good  ideas  in  it ;  it  would  be  a  very  agreeable  habitation,  if 
Messieurs  the  Prussians  are  so  good  as  to  allow  you  to  finish 
it.     Will  you  permit  me  a  few  remarks  ? " 

"  Certainly." 

"  I  have  n't  the  least  idea  of  persuading  you  to  change  any- 
thing in  these  plans,  which  seem  to  me  to  be  excellent ;  but  I 
have  seen  and  compared  a  great  deal.  Well,  to  tell  you  frankly 
my  first  impression,  it  seems  to  me  that  this  has  rather  the 
character  of  a  city  mansion  than  of  a  country-house.  You 
will  excuse  me,  will  you  not  ?  I  don't  understand  why  a 
country-house  should  be  so  shut  up ;  I  should  like  to  see 
a  portico  around  it,  or  at  least  a  large  veranda;  windows 
more  open,  the  expression  more  perceptive  of  the  exterior 
life." 

"  Eh,  my  dear  friend  ! "  said  M.  de  Gandelau ;  "  I  hope  my 

■ 

children  will  pass  here  a  large  part  of  the  year ;  we  are  not 
planning  a  place  where  they  would  only  live  two  or  three 
months  in  the  summer,  after  getting  tired  of  the  city ;  they 
must  have  a  good,  tight,  well-covered  house,  where  they  can 
reside  in   all  seasons." 


CRITICISM.  159 


"  Yes,  certainly,  that  is  wisely  considered ;  but  what  do 
you  think  of  the  villas  in  Northern  Italy,  where  the  climate 
is  bleak  in  winter  and  spring,  and  which  are  not  the  less 
delightful  with  their  porticos,  terraces,  their  large  open  halls, 
and  their  bay-windows  looking  out  upon  the  country  ?  All 
these  have  a  noble  aspect,  elevate  life,  one  might  say,  and 
enlarge  narrow  ideas,  which  are  but  too  prevalent  in  our  times. 
Then,  don't  you  think  that  the  want  of  symmetry  is  too 
glaring,  at  least  on  one  of  the  fronts  ?  This  resembles,  some- 
what, constructions  made  one  after  another,  so  as  to  satisfy 
successive  needs ;  and  is  it  not  wanting  in  that  unity  which 
should  be  found  in  every  work  of  art  ?  " 

"But  I  do  not  propose  to  leave  a  work  of  art  to  my 
daughter ;   only  a  good,  solid,  convenient  house." 

"Perhaps  so.  You  will  agree,  however,  that  it  is  well  if 
both  qualities  can  be  combined.  For  a  cultivated  and  charm- 
ing person  like  your  daughter,  it  is  not  unseemly  that  her 
house  should  reflect  that  cultivation  and  charm  on  the  out- 
side. You  would  not  be  displeased,  on  going  to  see  Madame 
Marie,  to  see  the  little  family  which  is  in  prospect  grouped 
a-round  her  under  a  portico  or  loggia  of  delicate  architect- 
ure. This  seems  to  me  to  be  rather  the  house  of  some 
grave  Flemish  alderman.  These  gables  have  a  certain  austere 
aspect  which  —  " 

"  Come,  my  friend,  gables  are  not  austere ;  they  are  gables, 
that's  all." 


160  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

"  0,  these  gables  with  their  big  roofs  have  a  severity  of 
look  which  is  not  in  harmony  with  the  idea  of  a  pleasure- 
house  ! " 

"  But  it  is  not  a  pleasure-house  ;  it  is  a  house  built  for 
people  who  are  to  inhabit  it ;  not  for  saunterers,  as  we  see 
none  here." 

"  Never  mind ;  I  should  have  liked  to  warm  up  these 
exteriors,  which  are  slightly  cold  of  aspect,  by  projections, 
bay-windows,  and  a  gallery  covered  by  a  terrace  overhead." 

"  Warm  up,  —  that 's  soon  said ;  but  one  catches  rheuma- 
tism under  your  galleries.  It 's  well  enough  for  Nice  or 
Mentone,  but  they  are  scarcely  practicable  in  this  part  of  the 
country.  It  is  best  to  have  the  sun  strike  the  walls  of  our 
houses,  and  your  porticos  are  hot-houses  for  mushrooms." 

"  I  see,"  said  M.  Durosay,  after  a  pause,  "  that  you  adhere 
to  your  taste,  my  friend,  for  what  you  call  the  practical  side 
of  things.  Yet,  what  a  good  chance  this  is  to  give  your 
daughter  one  of  those  mansions  which,  without  neglecting 
the  material  comforts  of  life,  possess  that  perfume  of  art 
which  is  too  seldom  found  in  our  country  districts.  A  little 
exterior  elegance  is  a  powerful  charm,  which  leaves  an  in- 
delible impression  on  the  mind.  It  is  thus  that  the  Italians 
preserve  the  poetry  of  the  brilliant  eras  of  their  civilization. 
They  know  how  at  need  to  sacrifice  a  part  of  what  we  call 
'comfort/  of  the  necessities  of  the  material  life,  in  order  to 
preserve  among  them  these  beautiful  traditions  of  high  art." 


CRITICISM.  l6l 


"  I  don't  know  what  are  the  traditions  of  high  art,  nor  if 
these  traditions  protect  us  from  wind,  rain,  and  sun ;  but  I 
confess  to  you  that  your  Italian  villas,  in  the  neighborhood 
of  Verona  and  Venice,  always  seemed  to  me  very  gloomy 
and  disagreeable,  with  their  colonnades  and  closed  shutters. 
I  was  never  anxious  to  visit  them,  for  I  supposed  them  far 
from  comfortable.  If  they  are  made  to  display  models  of 
architecture  to  travellers,  I  am  quite  willing  ;  but  I  am  not 
anxious  to  amuse  or  interest  travellers,  and  my  daughter 
partakes  of  my  own  feelings  in  this  respect." 

"  Perhaps ;  yet  your  daughter  is  now  visiting  Italy,  and 
will  tarry  on  the  borders  of  the  Bosphorus.  Who  knows 
whether,  on  returning  hither,  she  would  not  be  delighted  to 
find,  as  it  were,  a  souvenir  of  the  impressions  she  will  not 
fail  to  have  received  there,  and  whether  the  surprise  you  are 
arranging  for  her  would  not  be  the  more  welcome,  if  you 
recalled  some  of  these  impressions  to  her  mind  ?  "What  do 
you  think  of  it,  Monsieur  Architect  ? " 

"I  am  listening  to  you,"  said  the  cousin,  "with  delight  to 
hear  you  talk  so  well  about  our  art." 

"So  you  would  share  my  opinion,  and  would  be  disposed 
to  give  this  dwelling,  so  well  distributed  by  your  skill,  a  few 
exterior  embellishments  in  which  it  is,  perhaps,  now  want- 
ing?" 

"I  do  not  say  that.  M.  de  Gandelau  has,  as  his  custom  is, 
given   us   full   liberty,  and    has    only   furnished    me    with    the 


1 62  THE  STORY   OF  A    HOUSE. 

figure  of  the  sum  to  which  he  wishes  to  limit  the  expense. 
Otherwise,  the  plan  being  accepted,  he  has  neither  imposed 
upon  us  an  excessive  severity,  nor  forbidden  us  to  use  what 
you  regard  as  the  exterior  adornment  of  a  house." 

"Well,  if  my  friend,  with  his  positive  mind,  does  not 
appear  inclined  to  these  adornments,  don't  you  think,  as  an 
artist,  that  something  might  be  added  to  these  fronts,  which 
are  perhaps  a  trifle  severe  in  aspect,  and  which  surely,  by 
aid  of  your  talent,  you  might  make  less  cold  ?  You  know 
Italy ;  you  have  visited  Pompeii ;  don't  you  find,  in  the 
architecture  of  that  country,  a  thousand  inspiring  hints,  rav- 
ishing examples,  and  —  " 

"Yes,  I  have  visited  Italy  and  France,  and  I  confess  to 
you  that  I  have  never  been  attracted  *  by  their  architectural 
works,  except  in  so  far  as  they  preserve  the  imprint  of  the 
manners  and  usages  of  those  who  have  produced  them. 
Y"ou  speak  of  Pompeii.  What  has  especially  struck  me  in 
the  remains  of  that  Italian  provincial  town  is  exactly  this 
quality.  Those  small  habitations  were  very  convenient  to 
the  customs  of  antiquity,  at  the  time  when  they  were  built, 
and  in  the  climate  in  which  they  were  erected.  But  I  de- 
duce from  this  study,  that  as  we  are  not  on  the  shores  of 
the  Bay  of  Naples,  and  have  habits  very  different  from  those 
of  the  Pompeians,  our  dwellings  should  in  nothing  resemble 
theirs ;  that  if,  for  instance,  it  was  very  agreeable  to  sup  in 
an   open  '  triclinium,'  sheltered  from   the  wind   by  a  '  velum,' 


CRITICISM.  l6': 


we  could  not  arrange  dining-rooms  in  the  same  way  in  the 
Department  of  the  Indre ;  that  if  it  was  very  pleasant  to 
sleep  in  a  chamber  with  a  surface  of  four  or  five  metres,  the 
door  of  which  was  left  open  on  a  court  surrounded  by  a 
portico,  this  would  be  very  inconvenient  for  us,  and  we 
should  run  a  great  risk  of  catching  cold  if  the  door  were  left 
open,  and  of  stifling  if  it  were  shut.  But  since  you  speak 
of  ancient  dwellings,  permit  me  to  observe  that  those  of 
Pompeii,  even  the  most  elegant  of  them,  do  not  display  on 
the  outside  any  of  the  adornments  which  you  seem  to  like. 
The  ancients  kept  the  luxury  they  enjoyed  for  the  interior, 
nor  did  they  care  to  make  a  display  to  passers-by.  I  do 
not  know  so  much  about  their  villas,  or  country-houses  ;  but 
I  have  every  reason  to  believe,  from  the  ruins  still  extant, 
that  they  did  not  make  sacrifices  to  what  is  the  entirely  mod- 
ern vanity  of  showing,  on  the  outside,  forms  of  architecture  to 
make  an  impression  on  wayfarers.  I  think  that  the  country 
palaces  which  seem  to  have  seduced  you  in  Northern  Italy 
are  much  more  works  of  vanity,  than  dwellings  proper  to 
the  customs  and  habits  of  those  who  erected  them  ;  indeed, 
they  have  been  scarcely  habitable,  and  the  state  of  dilapida- 
tion in  which  you  see  them  is  by  no  means  recent.  Erected 
for  vanity's  sake,  for  the  desire  of  display,  they  only  endured, 
as  residences,  as  works  due  to  vanity  endure,  that  is,  a  few 
years  of  the  life  of  a  man  ;  after  which  they  were  aban- 
doned " 


1 64  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

"  You  give  the  name  of  vanity,"  replied  M.  Durosay,  "  to 
what  I  regard  as  the  love  of  the  art;  the  desire  to  show 
the  work  of  art." 

"  We  should  probably  never  agree  upon  this  point.  I  be- 
lieve that  art  consists,  in  architecture  at  least,  in  being 
true  and  simple.  You  only  see  a  form  which  pleases  or 
displeases  you ;  I  seek  something  else,  or,  rather,  I  first 
observe  if  this  form  is  the  expression  of  a  want,  if  it  has  a 
reason  of  existence,  and  it  only  pleases  me  when  this  con- 
dition, according  to  my  judgment,  is  fulfilled." 

"  So  a  barn  is,  to  you,  a  work  of  art  ? " 

"  Certainly ;  if  it  is  well  made  for  protecting  its  contents, 
it  is  in  my  eyes  worth  much  more  so  than  an  uncomfortable 
palace,  though  it  be  decorated  with  colonnades  and  pedi- 
ments." 

"You  ought  to  go  to  America." 

"  Perhaps  I  should  do  wisely,  if  I  knew  that  they  tried 
to  build  there  in  accordance  with  the  tastes  and  needs  of 
the  inhabitants.  But  in  America,  as  everywhere  nowadays, 
pretensions  are  made  to  '  style,'  and  things  considered  fine 
are  eagerly  copied ;  that  is,  traditions  are  applied  at  random, 
the  origin  or  principle  of  which  is  not  sought." 

"  Come,"  said  M.  de  Gandelau,  who  thought  the  discus- 
sion getting  long,  "  we  are  getting  far  away  from  Paul's 
house :  in  order  to  satisfy  you,  when  you  come  to  see  my 
daughter  in  her  new  residence,  we  will   build  a   card  portico 


CRITICISM.  165 


before  one  of  the  fronts,  and  place  under  its  shadow  a  num- 
ber of  Berri  peasants  disguised  as  Venetians,  mingled  with 
some  lords  in  scarlet  robes,  playing  on  the  viol  and  the  bas- 
soon.    It  is  late,  and  time  to  go  to  bed." 


1 66  THE  STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 


V-> 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

PAUL  ASKS   WHAT  ARCHITECTURE  IS. 

4 

(5^^^)HE  cousin  foresaw  that  Paul  would  revert  to  the 
„  discussion  of  the  evening  before ;  and  as  the  two 
>t  wended  their  way,  early  in  the  morning,  to  visit 
the  works,  Paul  did  not  fail  to  feel  his  way  towards  it. 
But  he  did  not  quite  know  what  he  wished  to  ask.  The 
cousin  did  not  assist  him,  but  left  him  at  full  leisure  to 
collect  his  thoughts. 

"  Does  M.  Durosay  know  much  about  architecture  ? "  Paul 
finally  asked. 

"Why,  he  speaks  like  a  person  who  is  not  a  stranger  to 
the  art." 

"  Still,  you  did  not  seem  to  grant  what  he  asked." 

"  And  what  did  he  ask  ? " 

"  Why  —  you  know  —  he  wanted  Marie's  house  to  be  — 
more  —  " 

"More  what?" 

"  More  —  less  severe.  He  suggested  a  portico,  a  loggia. 
What  is  a  loggia  ?  " 

"  It   is   a   large   covered   balcony,   usually   shut   in  on   two 


PAUL   ASKS    WHAT  ARCHITECTURE   IS.  l6j 

sides,    but   opening   in    front,   on    the    ground-floor   or    upper 
floors,  upon  the  public  road  or  the  country." 

"  Why  should  we  not  have  a  loggia  on  Marie's  house  ? " 

"  You  might,  one  or  several." 

"  Well  ? " 

"  Then  we  must  put  it,  if  on  the  ground-floor,  in  front  of 
the  drawing-room,  in  the  middle  of  the  fronting  on  the  gar- 
den ;  if  on  the  first  floor,  before  the  large  bedchamber." 

"  Would  not  that  make  a  good  effect  ?  " 

"Perhaps;  but  the  apartment  opening  upon  this  loggia 
'would  be  dark  and  gloomy,  as  the  windows  would  fall  under 
its  ceiling." 

"  0,  yes,  that  's  true !  but  we  have  bay-windows  at  the 
end  of  the  drawing,  dining,  and  billiard  rooms." 

"  Yes  ;  only  these  are  shut  instead  of  open  towards  the 
outside,  and  these  rooms  have  the  benefit  of  their  additional 
space.  They  are,  then,  cages,  what  were  formerly  called 
'  breteches.'  You  have  thus  the  advantages  of  a  loggia, 
without  what,  in  our  climate,  would  be  its  inconveniences." 

"Why  did  you  not  say  this  to  M.  Durosay  ? " 

"He  knew  it  well  enough  ;  there  was  no  need  to  tell  him." 

"He  also  suggested  a  portico." 

"  For  what  ?  " 

"I  don't  know.  He  said  it  would  look  well,  and  thai  my 
sister  and  her  children  would  bo  grouped  under  it,  which 
would  look  prettily  from   a   distance." 


1 68  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

"And  would  your  sister  like  to  look  picturesquely  from  a 
distance  ? " 

"  0,  I  don't  think  she  would  care  much  about  it ! " 

"  And  for  whom  are  we  building  the  house  ? " 

"  AVhy,  for  my  sister." 

"  And  not  for  loafers,  eh  ?  This  portico  would  be  as  in- 
•  convenient  as  the  loggia,  for  it  would  make  the  rooms  which 
opened  on  its  colonnades  dark  and  gloomy.  As  we  usually 
live  in  the  rooms  which  would  be  under  the  portico,  it 
would  cost  rather  dear  to  make  pleasant  groups  on  it  for 
passers-by." 

"  No  doubt.  Besides,  we  have  a  greenhouse  with  a  de- 
scent to  the  garden,  before  the  billiard-room,  which  can 
serve  as  a  portico,  and  will  not  make  the  room  gloomy,  as 
it  is  of  glass." 

"  Assuredly." 

"  M.  Durosay,  perhaps,  did  not  take  note  of  it." 

"  Likely  enough ;  it  is  not  '  monumental.'  He  wanted  a 
real  covered  portico,  like  those  of  Italy." 

"  He.  seems  to  admire  Italian  architecture  very  much." 

"  Which  ? " 

"  That  of  which  he  spoke." 

"  But  there  are  many  sorts  of  Italian  architecture,  accord- 
ing to  epochs,  latitudes,  and  the  habits  of  the  people." 

"  You  did  not  call  his  attention  to  this." 

"  He  ought  to  know  it." 


PAUL   ASKS    WHAT   ARCHITECTURE   IS.  169 

"I   see   that  you  do  not  take    M.   Durosay's   opinions   in 

earnest." 

"M.  Durosay  is  an  estimable  man;  his  opinions  are  sin- 
cere, and  therefore  I  take  them  seriously ;  but  he  looks  at 
things  from  a  point  of  view  different  from  mine.  He  judges 
matters  of  art  like  a  man  of  the  world,  and  1  think  that 
we  architects  should  judge  them  by  reasoning.  Sentiment 
does  not  reason ;  it  is  like  faith  ;  therefore  we  could  not 
come  to  an  understanding,  since  each  of  us  spoke  in  a  dif- 
ferent tongue." 

Light  did  not  break  upon  Paul's  mind.  Till  then  he  had 
thought  that  architecture  was  learned  much  as  one  learns 
grammar  and  orthography,  and  now  his  cousin  told  him 
that  there  were  several  languages  of  it,  and  that  if  ;i  person 
knew  one  of  them,  the  others  still  remained  incomprehensible. 
He  did  not  understand  why  reasoning  should  enter  into  a 
matter  entirely  of  form  and  appearance ;  and  he  did  not  know 
how  to  ask  questions  on  the  subject  which  might  enlighten 
him.  He  walked  with  his  head  down,  beating  with  his  cane 
the  yellow  thistles. which  sprinkled  the  roadside.  The  cous- 
in did  not  seem  anxious  to  break  the  silence,  and  thus  they 
reached  the  work-yard.     It  was  nearly  deserted. 

"There  was  a  frost  last  night,"  said  Papa  Branchu,  "and  it 
is  going  to  freeze." 

'Well,  the  masonry-work  must  lie  covered  with  rubbish 
and    stubble,  and   we   will    stop.       Tut    portlasts  on   the   walls. 


170  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

stubble  above,  and  slabs  at  intervals.  Have  a  care  that  the 
portlasts  cover  the  facing  of  the  walls.  If  you  have  n't  enough 
stubble,  put  earth  on  the  portlasts,  or  clods  of  turf.  For  the 
cellar  vaults,  spread  them  over  with  a  good  bed  of  earth,  with 
slopes,  and  fix  some  openings  in  the  haunches,  so  the  rain  or 
melted  snow  can  run  off.  Come,  do  this  up  quickly,  so  it 
may  be  finished  by  to-morrow  night ;  then  we  will  lie  by  till 
the  cold  weather  is  gone." 

"  All  the  boys  are  off,"  said  Papa  Branchu,  "  and  there  are 
only  a  few  worthless  fellows  at  the  work-yard." 

"  This  suspension  of  the  work,"  said  the  cousin,  on  return- 
ing towards  the  chateau,  "  will  enable  us  to  study  the  details 
of  construction  at  leisure." 

"  Yes,"  said  Paul ;  "  but  I  would  like  to  know  how  you  set 
to  work  to  trace  a  detail." 

"  You  have  seen  it  clone  during  the  two  months  we  have 
been  at  work  ? " 

"  Not  entirely ;  I  see  that  you  say  what  you  wish,  and  that 
what  you  wish  is  speedily  traced  on  paper ;  I  have  tried  to 
do  it  myself,  and  though  I  knew  well  enough  what  I  wanted  to 
do,  nothing  appeared  on  the  paper  ;  what  I  drew  on  the  paper, 
too,  made  me  forget  what  I  had  in  my 'mind.  But  there 
must  be  a  means  of  doing  everything  one  wishes  to  do  in 
architecture  ;  a  method,  a  —  what  shall  I  say  ?  —  a  receipt  —  " 

"  Ah,  there  you  are  !  You  see,  little  cousin ;  you  think 
you   understand   and   wish   a   thing,   without   really   knowing 


PAUL   ASKS    WHAT  ARCHITECTURE   IS.  IJl 

always  what  you  wish,  or  comprehending  a  proposition  clearly; 
since  morning  your  thoughts  have  been  turning  about  the 
question   you  have  only  just  now  put  to  me;   I  wanted   you 

to  take  time  to  make  it  precise;  it  was  necessary  that  your 
brain  should  tug  at  it.  Now,  thanks  to  the  effort  you  have 
made,  you  will  the  better  seize  my  reply.  You  recall  Boileau's 
verse :  — 

'What  is  well  conceived  is  clearly  announced, 
And  the  words  to  say  it  come  easily.' 

These  words  may  be  applied  to  all  the  arts.  The  important 
tiling  is  to  become  accustomed  to  acquire  clear  conceptions; 
the  trouble  is  that  people  learn  to  make  phrases  before  learn- 
ing to  reason,  and  wish  to  express  their  thoughts  before  they 
have  been  elaborately  wrought  out  in  the  brain. 

"Then  people  think  they  supply  what  they  think  is  incom- 
plete in  the  thought,  by  a  happy  combination  of  words;  in 
architecture,  they  dwell  upon  what  seems  attractive,  before 
knowing  whether  it  answers  whal  reason,  a  rigorous  regard 
for  the  necessities  or  needs  of  ;i  construction,  demand.  It'  an 
address  is  in  question,  vulgar  minds  are  easily  led  by  brilliant 
phrases,  and  only  too  late  perceive  how  much  hollowness 
this  seductive  form  conceals.  If  architecture  is  the  subject, 
vulgar  minds  are  in  tin'  same  way  seduced  by  picturesque 
aspects  and  attractive  forms,  and  afterwards  learn  the  defects 
of  the  edifice  at  their  own  expense.  M.  Durosay,  impressed 
by   certain    forms    which   have  pleased    him  in   his   travels,  has 


172  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

never  thought  to  ask  himself  if  these  were  in  harmony  with 
the  necessities  which  are  to  be  satisfied,  the  needs  of  the 
structure ;  he  has  only  seen  the  turn  of  the  phrase,  and  has 
not  sought  to  look  for  a  ripe  idea  behind  it.  We  might  there- 
fore argue  thus  for  days  without  convincing  each  other,  he 
sticking  to  the  form  only,  or  the  fashion  in  which  the  phrase 
is  turned,  but  not  ascertaining  whether  this  form  has  a  signifi- 
cation, and  whether  the  phrase  expresses  a  clear  thought. 
All  is  in  that,  my  cousin  ;  and,  according  to  my  idea,  our 
country,  so  near  utter  ruin,  will  not  rise  again  until  she  learns 
to  reflect  before  speaking.  We  build  great  edifices  which 
cost  fabulous  sums,  and  we  are  not  clear  as  to  what  they  are 
intended  to  contain.  Or  rather,  we  think  of  making  the  box, 
without  destining  it  to  this  or  that  use.  And  observe  well 
that  this  wretched  habit  does  not  appertain  to  monumental 
structures  only.  How  is  it  that  Worthy  citizens  like  M. 
Durosay,  if  they  have  to  build  a  house,  think  first  of  erect- 
ing a  chalet,  or  an  Italian  villa,  or  an  English  cottage,  with- 
out scarcely  knowing  whether  they  will  live  comfortably  in 
it  ?  Thus  you  will  see  Italian  villas  in  the  North  of  France 
and  Swiss  chalets  at  Nice.  Learn  to  reason,  to  observe  first, 
and  you  will  be  a  good  lawyer,  doctor,  sdldier,  architect.  If 
nature  has  endowed  you  with  genius,  so  much  the  better;  it 
will  be  a  splendid  complement  to  your  faculties ;  but  if  you 
have  not  learned  the  habit  of  reasoning,  genius  will  serve  you 
nothing,  or  rather  it  will  not  be  developed.     To  learn  to  reason, 


PAUL  ASKS    WHAT  ARCHITECTURE  IS.  1 73 

you  must  work  much  and  long,  and  not  let  yourself  be  seduced 
by  appearances,"  however  attractive.  Unhappily  our  system  of 
education  in  France  leads  us  to  be  content  with  appearances, 
to  rely  on  traditions  regarded  as  articles  of  faith,  and  not, 
therefore,  to  be  disputed.  You  will  find  confronting  you  every- 
where M.  Durosay's  portico.  The  army,,  the  administration, 
literature,  politics,  the  arts,  have  their  'porticos,'  which  you 
must  accept,  to  do  it  matters  not  what,  or  to  enter  it  matters 
not  where  ;  at  least,  unless  you  have  enough  energy,  power 
of  working,  independence  of  character,  knowledge  of  business, 
tenacity,  and  therefore  authority,  to  say,  'I  will  only  accept 
your  portico  in  so  far  as  I  find  it  useful  to  serve  my  purposes.' 
To  return  to  your  question,  Are  there,  in  architecture,  receipts, 
methods  of  procedure  ?  I  answer  that  there  are  practical 
methods  proper  to  construction ;  but  as  the  materials  and 
means  of  execution  are  every  day  modified,  the  methods  ought 
to  follow  these  variations.  As  for  architecture,  there  is  a 
method  to  follow  in  all  cases  which  present  themselves,  but 
no  receipts  or  procedures.  This  method  is  none  other  than 
the  application  of  your  reasoning  power  to  each  special  case ; 
for  what  is  good  in  one  case  is  not  in  another.  It  is  then  on 
the  observation  of  these  circumstances,  facts,  habits,  climate, 
conditions  of  hygiene,  that  your  reasoning  will  rest  before  con- 
ceiving the  work.  And  when  this  operation  is  completed,  and 
arranged  in  your  brain,  you  may  without  hesitation  put  the 
result  of  this  intellectual  labor  on  paper." 


174  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

"  I  think  I  understand  what  you  say ;  but  how  shall  I 
begin  ? " 

"  By  getting  the  habit  of  observing  everything,  and  reflect- 
ing upon  all  you  see,  hear,  and  read.  When  you  have  before 
you  a  ditch  which  you  must  cross,  do  you  not  ask  yourself, 
within,  whether  your  legs  will  enable  you  to  jump  to  the 
other  side  ?  Do  you  not  know,  by  previous  observation, 
whether  or  not  you  can  cross  this  ditch,  and  do  you  not 
decide  upon  one  or  the  other  course  ?  The  result  of  these 
observations,  then,  establishes  in  you  a  conviction  which  en- 
ables you  to  act  without  hesitation.  You  do  not  ask  your- 
self, before  jumping,  whether  Achilles  or  Eoland,  according 
to  the  poets,  jumped  over  much  larger  intervals.  It  is  you, 
it  is  your  powers,  that  you  consult,  not  those  of  heroes, — 
unless  you  wish  to  fall  into  the  water.  Well,  if  you  have 
a  house  to  build  for  some  one  whom  you  know,  you  say  to 
yourself  at  first  that  a  house  is  made  to  shelter  people;  then 
you  represent  to  yourself  the  number  of  rooms  that  are  ne- 
cessary, and  what  relations  they  should  have  with  each  other, 
and  the  habits  of  the  occupant.  You  know  whether  he  lives 
alone,  or  receives  many  guests,  in  what  seasons  he  will 
occupy  the  house,  whether  he  likes  his  ease  or  lives  very 
modestly,  whether  he  has  many  servants,  or  is  served  by 
one,  etc. ;  and  when  you  have  reflected  on  all  these  essential 
conditions,  you  try  to  put  the  result  of  your  observations  on 
paper.     But   if   you   occupy  yourself  first   with   placing   this 


PAUL   ASKS    WHAT  ARCHITECTURE  IS.  1 75 

man  and  liis  family  in  a  Pompeian  house,  or  a  manor-house 
of  the  Middle  Ages,  the  chances  are  that  you  will  erect  for 
him  an  uncomfortable  dwelling,  where  you  will  be  forced  to 
make  awkward  dispositions  in  order  to  raise  a  construction 
belonging  to  an  epoch  and  civilization  different  from  those 
in  which  we  live." 

"  I  understand  that ;    yet  one  learns  how  to  make  a  door, 
a  window,  a  staircase." 

"That  is,  we  are  told  how,  before  us,  other  men  went  to 
work  to  make  a  door,  a  staircase,  a  flooring ;  but  it  is  not 
and  should  not  be  pretended,  in  teaching  you  the  methods 
employed  by  our  ancestors,  to  impose  on  you  the  task  of 
doing  exactly  as  they  did,  since  you,  perhaps,  possess  mate- 
rials that  they  did  not  have,  and  your  habits  are  different 
from  theirs.  It  is,  or  ought  to  be,  said  to  you :  '  Here  are 
the  results  of  experience  acquired  from  antiquity  down  to 
our  own  time  ;  start  from  here,  do  as  your  predecessors  have 
done,  apply  your  reasoning  faculties  to  making  use  of  ac- 
quired knowledge,  but  only  obeying  it  when  it  fulfils  the 
needs  of  the  present.  It  is  not  permitted  to  you  to  ignore 
what  has  been  done  before  your  time ;  it  is  a  common  store- 
house, a  good  acquired ;  you  must  know  its  extent  and  value ; 
but  add  to  it  the  aid  of  your  intelligence ;  do  not  go  back- 
ward.' Well,  there  is  but  one  method  of  not  going  backward 
in  architecture  ;  it  is  to  make  the  art  the  faithful  expression 
of    the  necessities  of   the  times  as  one  sees   them,   that   the 


I76  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

edifice  may  be  in  truth  the  envelope  of  that  which  it  con- 
tains." 

"  Do  they  not  do  this  ? " 

"  Xot  exactly :  we  are  somewhat  like  those  people  who 
have  inherited  rich  furniture  from  their  ancestors,  very  re- 
spectable and  respected,  who  keep  and  use  it,  though  it  is 
very  uncomfortable,  and  does  not  correspond  to  the  habits 
of  the  time  ;  who  even  set  some  one  to  guard  these  antiq- 
uities, with  the  order  not  to  let  them  be  in  any  way 
changed.  If  you,  then,  the  master  of  the  house,  wish  to 
change  the  material,  or  send  some  of  this  furniture,  more 
annoying  than  useful,  to  the  garret,  the  guardian  whom  you 
pay  and  lodge  puts  on  a  dignified  air,  and  declares  that  the 
duties  with  which  you  have  invested  him,  and  which  he 
proposes  to  fulfil  correctly,  prevent  his  permitting  these 
changes  and  suppressions  ;  that  it  is  confided  to  his  honor  not 
to  let  this  furniture  become  dilapidated  or  changed,  since  he 
is  placed  there  to  preserve  it.  You  continue,  for  the  sake 
of  peace,  to  use  this  inconvenient  furniture,  and  you  retain 
its  guardian." 

"  I  do  not  entirely  understand  you." 

"  You  will,  later  on  ;  only  regard  yourself  as  warned.  If 
you  enter  some  old  hotel,  full  of  furniture  out  of  use, 
beware  of  criticising  it;  if  the  masters  of  the  house  are  con- 
tent with  him,  the  guardian  of  these  curiosities  will  do  so 
well,  that  you  could  not  re-enter  there." 


THEORETICAL   STUDIES.  177 


CHAPTEE   XVIII. 


THEORETICAL    STUDIES. 


H  HE  cold  weather  made  it  necessary  to  suspend  the 
works.  It  promised  to  be  a  long  winter.  The 
%  cousin  and  Paul  prepared  to  employ  this  en- 
forced leisure  in  a  profitable  manner.  They  decided  that 
not  only  all  the  details  necessary  to  the  completion  of  the 
works  should  be  elaborated,  but  that  the  cousin  should 
profit  by  the  winter  season  to  give  Paul  some  instructions 
which  he  needed  as  inspector  of  works. 

Paul  grew  every  day  more  interested  in  this  task.  Up  to 
this  time  the  execution  had  followed  the  study  within  doors, 
and  example  and  practice  had  illustrated  the  theory  ;  but  he 
clearly  perceived  that  all  his  attention  and  desire  to  second 
the  master  of  the  work  did  not  suffice,  and  that  at  each  step 
he  was  confronted  by  a  difficulty.  The  more  the  work  ad- 
vanced the  more  powerless  he  seemed  to  himself.  He  set  to 
work,  then,  with  a  hearty  ambition  to  learn,  inasmuch  as 
everything  around  assumed  a  more  gloomy  and  desolate 
aspect.  Paul  had  never  lived  in  the  country  in  winter : 
when   he   went   home   for   the   New  Year's   festival,    the    few 


178  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

days  passed  there  flew  by  so  quickly  that  he  had  no  leisure 
to  pay  attention  to  the  aspect  of  the  fields.  Besides,  the 
family  had  visitors  at  that  season ;  his  eldest  sister  was 
at  home;  everybody  was  disposed  for  a  good  time.  This 
was  not  the  case  in  earlv  December,  1870  ;  the  neighboring 
villages  were  deserted,  or  occupied  for  a  few  hours  by  ill- 
clad  troops,  dying  of  hunger,  going  to  fight,  too  often  with- 
out enthusiasm,  leaving  stragglers  and  the  sick  in  the 
hamlets.  Then  there  were  long  lines  of  wagons,  which 
seemed  so  many  funeral  trains. 

The  snow  began  to  cover  the  fields  and  deaden  the  far-off 
sounds.  It  was  seldom  that  a  peasant  presented  himself  at 
the  chateau :  the  postman  still  came  regularly,  and  the  let- 
ters and  papers  which  he  brought  only  still  more  saddened 
the  faces  of  the  inmates.     Sometimes  soldiers  were  lodged  at 

O 

the  chateau ;  all  were  mute ;  the  officers  themselves  asked 
to  retire  to  their  chambers,  saying  they  were  fatigued,  and 
did  not  make  their  appearance  in  the  drawing-room.  M.  de 
Gandelau,  who,  despite  his  gout,  rose  very  early,  seemed  to 
multiply  himself ;  he  appeared  among  the  farmers  at  the 
neighboring  village,  hurrying  the  transports,  organizing  hos- 
pitals, collecting  food,  and  getting  over  the  difficulties  im- 
posed by  routine. 

"  Make  Paul  work,"  said  he  to  the  cousin,  every  evening ; 
"that  is  all  I  ask  of  your  friendship, — and  it  is  much;  make 
him  work,  I  pray  you." 


THEORETICAL   STUDIES.  1 79 

The  clays  passed  for  the  most  part  in  studying  certain 
branches  of  construction ;  then  the  architect  and  his  inspect- 
or took  a  walk  before  nightfall,  during  which  the  cousin 
did  not  fail  to  lead  the  conversation  to  some  interesting 
topic.  The  country,  natural  phenomena,  were  habitual  sub- 
jects of  his  talk ;  and  thus  Paul  learned  to  observe  and 
reflect,  and  lie  daily  perceived  how  much  knowledge  it  was 
necessary  to  gather  to  do  a  little  thing.  The  cousin  often 
repeated  to  him, — 

"The  more  you  know,  the  more  you  will  recognize  how 
little  you  know  ;  and  the  limit  of  science  is  to  acquire  the 
conviction  that  vou  know  nothing." 

"  Then,"  said  Paul  one  day,  "  of  what  use  is  it  to  learn 
anything  ? " 

"  To  be  modest  ;  to  fill  life  with  something  besides  the 
preoccupations  of  vanity ;  to  make  yourself  a  little  useful 
to  others  without  demanding  their  gratitude." 

The  cousin  made  Paul  draw  a  great  deal,  always  after  na- 
ture, or  after  copies  prepared  in  presence  of  his  scholar,  for 
he  had  not  brought  any  architectural  designs  with  him. 
Paul  copied  out  the  calculations  of  those  parts  of  the  con- 
struction which  were  already  elevated.  Thus  he  took  exact 
account  of  the  structure,  of  each  piece  of  stone  put  into  the 
work. 

Paul  began,  then,  to  trace  properly  an  architectural  detail, 
and    his   cousin   never    failed   to   answer    each   question    ad- 


I  So  THE   STORY  OF  A  HOUSE. 

dressed  to  him.  Paul  had  soon  got  over  all  timidity,  or,  if 
you  please,  self-esteem,  and  he  no  longer  shrank  from  show- 
ing the  little  he  knew  and  multiplying  his  questions.  The 
cousin  had  a  way  of  waiting  till  his  young  inspector  asked 
to  be  enlightened,  before  giving  him  a  lesson  on  any  partic- 
ular subject;  he  wished  that  his  scholar's  intelligence  should 
be  prepared  by  the  necessity  of  knowing,  before  instructing 
him.  The  lessons  *thus  treated  of  a  great  variety  of  subjects, 
but  the  cousin  was  careful  to  connect  them  all,  by  pointing  out 
the  general  principles  which  constantly  made  their  appearance. 

One  day,  Paul  wanted  to  know  what  an  "  order "  was,  and 
what  this  word  meant  in  architecture. 

"  Your  question  is  a  large  one,  little  cousin,  and  I  am  not 
sure  I  can  answer  it  so  as  to  give  you  light  upon  it.  There 
are  two  meanings  to  this  word  in  architecture;  'order'  sig- 
nifies, sometimes,  the  correlation  between  the  parts.  But  I 
think  that  is  not  what  you  mean  ;  you  probably  ask  in  what 
consist  what  are  vulgarly  called  the  orders  of  architecture. 
The  idea  of  order  in  your  mind  implies  a  series  of  columns, 
or  vertical  supports,  carrying  an  entablature,  or  horizontal 
bar.     That  is  it,  is  it  not  ? " 

"Yes,  that  is  it." 

"  Well,  in  former  times  architects  naturally  had  the  idea 
of  erecting  vertical  points  of  support,  and  of  placing  from  one 
to  the  other,  on  their  tops,  traversing  pieces  of  wood  or  stone ; 
and  upon  this  they  established  a  roof.     This  formed  a  shelter, 


THEORETICAL   STUDIES.  l8l 

open  below,  —  what  we  call  a  halL  But  as  in  many  cases  it 
was  also  necessary  to  shut  these  covered  spaces,  walls  were 
built  behind  these  vertical  points  of  support,  leaving  between 
them  and  the  isolated  supports  a  free  space  called  a  '  por- 
tico.' In  this  way,  for  instance,  were  built  certain  Grecian 
temples.  Little  by  little  the  genius  of  the  architects,  study, 
the  observation  of  the  exterior  effect,  caused  relative,  deli- 
cate, and  harmonious  proportions  to  be  given  to  these  verti- 
cal points  of  support  and  that  which  they  supported,  namely, 
the  entablature,  whence  laws  were  deduced ;  for,  remark  well, 
the 'example  always  precedes  the  rule,  and  the  rule  is  only  the 
result  of  experience.  The  Greeks  thus  formed  three  orders, 
—  the  Ionian,  the  Doric,  and  the  Corinthian, — each  of  which 
possessed  its  harmonious  system  of  proportions  and  its  orna- 
mentation. These  systems  are  not  so  absolute  among  the 
Greeks  but  that  they  often  encroach  upon  one  another. 

"  But  the  Romans,  who  were  people  of  '  order,'  and  pretended 
to  impose  it  everywhere  and  in  everything,  in  taking  these 
systems  from  the  Greeks,  wished  to  reduce  them  to  a  nearly 
absolute  formula.  This  simplified  matters,  and  the  Romans 
liked  to  shut  up  matters  of  art  in  an  administrative  limit. 
When  antiquity  was  studied  in  the  sixteenth  century,  they  did 
worse;  for  they  assumed  to  fix  forever  the  relations  between 
the  various  members  of  each  of  these  orders,  and  to  leave  a 
certain  degree  of  latitude  to  the  architects.  Two  others  were 
added    to    the    three    first    orders,  —  the    Tuscan    and    Com- 


1 82  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

posite.  These  mummified  orders  have  been  applied  no  matter 
where  or  how,  as  a  piece  of  tapestry  is  hung  to  a  wall  to 
decorate  it.  Architects  have  often  been  more  absorbed  in 
placing  an  order  on  a  facade,  than  in  disposing  the  building 
elevated  behind  it  conveniently.  The  colonnade  of  the 
Louvre  is  made  most  contrary  to  reason  in  this  respect, 
because  its  order  has  no  relation  with  what  it  covers,  and  the 
immense  portico  situated  on  the  first  floor  only  serves  to 
obscure  the  windows  opening  in  its  length ;  nor  do  you  ever 
see  any  one  promenading  on  its  area.  But  they  must  be 
majestic  at  all  hazards.  AW-  have  not  entirely  recovered  from 
these  serious  follies,  and  you  may  still  see  these  orders  placed, 
for  no  imaginable  reason,  in  front  of  buildings  which  could 
easily  dispense  with  this  parasite  decoration,  intended  to  prove 
to  the  public  that  there  exist  orders,  and  architects  to  put 
them  in  proportion  according  to  the  formula. 

"  But  you  will  study  these  parts  of  architecture  a  little 
later.  I  think  it  a  bad  way  to  teach  art,- to  throw  flowing 
language  into  the  lesson,  before  being  able  to  express  the 
thought  clearly ;  and  this  is  what  is  done  by  authors  and 
orators  who  take  hifalutin  for  healthy  rhetoric ;  and  architects 
who,  before  thinking  of  fully  satisfying  the  demands  of  the  con- 
struction, or  of  studying  the  needs  of  -their  day,  amuse  them- 
selves  with  reproducing  forms  the  origins,  reasons,  and  true 
meaning  of  which  they  have  not  understood.  For  the  moment, 
let   us   stick   to  our   immediate   subject.     AVe   are   building   a 


THEORETICAL   STUDIES.  1 83 

house,  not  a  temple  or  a  basilica ;  we  must  study  all  its  parts. 
This  task  is  enough  for  us. 

"  We  have  leisure  to  study  well  the  details  of  our  building, 
as  the  cold  weather  has  forced  us  to  shut  up  our  work-yard. 
Construction,  my  friend,  is  the  art  of  foresight.  The  good 
constructor  leaves  nothing  to  chance,  postpones  no  solution, 
and  knows  how  to  give  each  function  its  place,  its  value  in 
relation  to  the  whole,  and  this  at  the  opportune  moment.  We 
have  drawn  the  plans  of  the  different  floors,  and  given  the 
necessary  details  to  the  construction  of  the  lower  parts  of  the 
house  ;  now  we  must  combine  the  details  of  the  elevations 
with  the  whole.  We  will  first  establish  the  exact  profile  of 
the  front  walls,  with  the  height  of  the  floorings,  the  levels  of 
the  grapplings,  and  the  shafts  of  the  roof." 

The  cousin,  who  had,  as  may  be  supposed,  conceived,  if  not 
traced,  beforehand,  all  the  parts  of  the  construction,  soon  ex- 
hibited this  profile  to  Paul,  who  marvelled  to  see  how  quickly 
his  teacher  could  trace  a  detail  of  construction  on  paper. 
Pie  once  more  alluded  to  this. 

"  How  can  you  indicate,  without  hesitation,  the  arrange- 
ments of  all  these  parts  of  the  building  ? " 

"  Because  I  have  thought  about  it,  and  have  represented 
all  these  parts  to  myself,  in  tracing,  or  making  you  trace,  the 
general  outlines.  If  they  are  not  on  the  paper,  they  are  in 
my  head ;  and  when  it  becomes  necessary  to  render  them 
intelligible  to  those  who  are    charged  with  the   execution,   I 


1 84  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

have  only  to  "write  down,  so  to  speak,  what  I  already  know 
by  heart.  Look  at  this  profile  and  these  few  details  (Fig.  42) ; 
examine  it  all  together ;  you  will  soon  perceive  that  you  have 
already  seen  all  that  this  sheet  of  paper  contains,  and  that 
with  a  little  attention  you  might  arrange  these  diverse  parts. 
You  see  figured  the  thickness  of  the  ground-floor  wall  with  its 
dotted  axis ;  the  height  of  the  allaying  A  and  its  support ; 
the  disposition  of  the  frame  of  the  window;  its  lintel;  the 
height  and  thickness  of  the  flooring.  The  string-course  B  was 
to  be  fixed ;  it  should  have  the  same  thickness  as  the  flooring. 
Then,  reducing  the  front  walls  to  50  centimetres  on  the  first 
floor,  we  place  an  'offset-course'  at  C;  the  allaying  like  that 
of  the  ground-floor.  The  height  of  the  first  floor  from  ground 
to  ground  has  already  been  fixed.  The  member  D,  below  the 
cornice,  has  the  thickness  of  the  second  flooring;  it  remains 
to  place  the  stone  coping  above  to  receive  the  gutter.  As 
for  the  window  of  this  first  story,  it  is  constructed  like  that 
of  the  ground-floor,  only  the  splaying  is  less  deep  by  10 
centimetres,  as  this  wall  is  10  centimetres  less  in  thickness. 
Its  lintel  is  the  same,  as  well  as  the  frames  which  are  to  receive 
the  cloth  blinds ;  and  the  grapplings  pass  under  these  lintels. 
As  we  have  gables,  the  cornices  cannot  turn,  and  must  stop 
against  a  projection  E,  which,  in  rising  above  the  roofing,  en- 
ables us  to  place  the  coping  F,  which  will  have  a  projecting 
fillet  to  cover  the  meeting;  of  the  slating  with  this  enable.  I 
trace  then  at  G  the  angle  of  the  building  with  this  projection 


Fig.  42.  —  SECTION   AND   DETAILS   OF    FRONT   WALL.  —  Page  184. 


THEORETICAL   STUDIES.  1 85 


E,  and  the  dressing  of  which  we  have  spoken.  As  I  perceive 
that  the  joists  will  have  too  much  span  at  certain  points,  I 
place  the  intermediate  beams  H  to  receive  them,  and  the 
corbels  /  to  relieve  the  span  of  these  beams. 

"I  have  traced  at  K  the  string-course  of  the  first  story 
with  the  projections  flanking  the  axis  of  the  wall,  the  offset- 
course  above,  then  at  L  the  cornice  and  crowning  coping. 
You  will  observe  that  this  coping  gives  an  inclination  towards 
the  exterior,  under  the  gutter,  so  that  if  a  leakage  happens 
the  water  will  run  outside  and  will  not  penetrate  the  masonry. 
This  coping  carries  a  larmier  a,  as  well  as  the  string-course, 
so  that  the  rain  may  not  drip  along  the  walls.  These  profiles 
will,  besides,  be  traced  of  the  size  of  the  execution,  for  the 
stone-cutter.  The  dormer-windows  for  lighting  the  attic 
story  will  rest  upon,  the  surface  M.  I  will  later  indicate 
to  you  what  the  carpentry  work  ought  to  be.  Take  these 
sketches,  and  make  designs  from  them  on  a  scale  of  5  centi- 
metres  per  metre,  so  that  they  may  serve  for  the  execution. 

"  Meanwhile  I  am  going  to  make  for  you  a  sketch  in  per- 
spective of  the  bay-windows,  or  alcoves  of  the  billiard  and 
dining  rooms,  by  aid  of  which  you  will  be  able  to  establish 
these  details.     We  shall  see  how  you  will  acquit  yourself  of  it. 

"The  English,  in  their  country-houses,  usually  employ 
this  sort  of  projecting  'cages.'  They  call  them  'bay-win- 
dows,' and  often  construct  them  in  corbelling.  See,  here 
is  a  sketch,  in   this  memorandum-book,  of  the  window  of  a 


1 86  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

house  at  Lincoln,  built  in  the  sixteenth  century  (Fig.  43). 
This  projecting  lodge,  carried  on  a  bracket,  is  terminated  by 
a  little  terrace  which  forms  a  balcony  on  the  first  story. 
Observe,  in  passing,  how  well  planned  this  construction  is. 
That  part  of  England  possesses  stone,  but  this  material  is 
less  common  than  brick.  The  builder  has  only  used  the 
dear  material  for  the  bay-window,  which  lie  could  scarcely 
erect  in  brick,  and  for  the  jambs  and  lintels  of  the  windows. 
The  rest  of  the  building  is  erected  in  brick.  But  we  give 
too  much  of  a  projection  to  your  bay-windows  to  carry  them 
in  corbelling." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  '  in  corbelling '  ?  " 

"  It  is  a  construction  in  projection,  without  foundation, 
but  sustained  by  corbels;  whence  the  word  'corbelling.'  The 
weight  of  the  masonry  reposing  on  the  lower  end,  the  part 
resting  on  the  corbels,  enables  us  to  establish  on  their  pro- 
jecting part  a  construction  which,  being  less  than  that  re- 
posing on  their  pendant,  is  thus  maintained  without  fear  of 
a  seesaw.  You  must  still  calculate  the  length  of  the  arm 
of  the  lever,  that  is,  the  relation  of  the  projection  of  the 
corbels  with  the  weight  which  sustains  their  pendant  and 
that  which  reposes  on  their  head.  The  mbre  projecting  the 
corbels,  the  more  the  weight  placed  on  their  exterior  extremity 
acts  upon  that  which  maintains  the  lever;  so  much  so  that  a 
very  slight  weight  placed  at  the  extremity  of  a  very  much 
projecting  corbel  might  make  a  heavy  construction,  put  at  the 


Fig.  43.  —  A  BAY-WINDOW.  —  Page  186. 


THEORETICAL   STUDIES.  1 87 

• 

end,  seesaw.  Corbels  have  often  been  replaced  by  '  gather- 
ings over,'  a  system  of  apparatus  which  carries  the  extreme 
weights  on  the  walls.  The  architect  who  designed  the  win- 
dow  that  I  have  just  shown  you  did  not  pay  attention  to 
these  combinations.  He  made  what  is  called  a  pendant,  or 
bracket,  that  is,  au  inverted  pyramid,  by  means  of  three 
courses  in  corbelling,  or,  if  you  will,  in  projection  one  over 
the  other,  so  as  to  obtain  a  part  of  a  polygon.  On  this  plat- 
form he  erected  his  opening,  which  is  about  24  c.  in  thickness. 
The  pendant  being  held  in  the  construction  of  the  wall, 
'supports,  by  the  weight  of  the  latter,  the  openwork,  with- 
out seesawing.  This  kind  of  balconies  was  much  affected 
in  the  Middle  Ages,  since  they  afforded  room  in  the  upper 
stories  without  encroaching  on  the  public  road,  and  because 
they  gave  side  views.  If  the  rules  relating  to  public 
ways  do  not  permit  these  projections  in  our  cities,  nothing- 
forbids  their  being  employed  in  country-houses.  But  there 
must  be  a  good  reason  for  building  them.  In  our  case,  these 
constructions  in  corbelling  have  no  object,  and  it  would  cost 
us  less  to  carry  our  bay-windows  to  the  ground." 

An  hour  later  the  cousin  handed  to  Paul  the  sketch  rep- 
resented in  Fig.  44,  giving  the  disposition  of  the  bay- 
window  of  the  billiard-room,  that  he  might  study  its  construc- 
tion. This  task  required  a  good  deal  of  attention  on  the  part 
of  our  inspector  of  works,  and  he  could  not  firing  it  to  a 
successful  result  until  he  had  asked  much  advice  and  infor- 
mation of  his  cousin. 


J  88  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 


CHAPTEK    XIX 


CONTINUATION    OF   THEORETICAL   STUDIES. 


/v-N^rf'.JIK  weather  became  more  and  more  unfavorable  to 


i 


^1^1  •  a  resumption  of  work.  The  constructions  begun 
'»Ajr  '{  were  concealed  under  a  thick  1 »« - « 1  of  rubbish  and 
earth,  covered  in  its  turn  by  a  heavy  mantle  of  snow.  The 
days  passed  in  studying  the  details  which  were  to  he  given 
to  Papa  Branchu  and  the  carpenter,  when  the  weather  should 
permit  work  to  be  begun  again  During  the  long  evenings 
theoretical  questions  were  discussed  concerning  the  art  of 
building,  after  the  news  of  the  day  had  been  disposed  of. 
For  Paul  this  was  a  means  of  instruction,  and  for  the  family  a 
distraction  in  tin-  midst  of  the  thoughts  which  weighed  upon 
all  in  those  melancholy  times.  Paul  had  seen  his  cousin 
draw,  during  the  day,  a  certain  number  of  profiles,  or  sections 
of  the  size  of  the  execution:  and  as  he  himself  had  designs 
to  copy  out,  he  had  not  stopped  to  question  his  instructor. 
But  in  the  evening  he  asked  how  these  pipfiles  were  drawn. 

"You  want  receipts  for  everything,  Paul," replied  the  cousin. 
"  But  there  are  no  receipts  for  drawing  profiles,  any  more 
than  there  are  for  the  other  parts  of  the  construction.      The 


THEORETICAL   STUDIES.  1 89 

destination,  the  nature  of  the  materials,  the  manner  of  putting 
them  to  use,  the  effect  to  be  obtained,  all  impose  various 
conditions.  To  these  add  good  sense,  observation,  and  study, 
and  you  will  be  able  to  draw  profiles.  Let  us  resume,  if  you 
please,  these  conditions,  one  by.  one. 

"  The  destination :  A  profile,  let  us  suppose,  is  made  to 
fulfil  a  certain  object ;  if  you  draw  a  cornice,  it  is  to  crown 
a  wall,  carry  a  gutter,  or  the  forward  part  of  a  roof,  to  divert 
the  rain  from  this  wall.  Then  you  must  make  the  cornice 
sufficiently  projecting  to  accomplish  this  object.  The  nature 
of  'the  materials :  It  is  clear  that  if  you  possess  stones  which 
are  resisting,  tenacious,  furnished  in  large  pieces,  or  stones 
which  are  thin  and  friable,  you  cannot  give  the  same  profile 
to  these  two  different  kinds  of  materials.  The  method  of 
placing  these  stones  should  also  have  an  influence  on  the 
form  of  the  profile.  If  we  have  to  raise  them  by  simple, 
primitive  means,  which  do  not  allow  of  the  raising  of 
heavy  weiguts  to  tolerably  great  heights,  or  if  you  possess 
means  for  the  latter  object,  in  the  first  case,  you  must 
avoid  profiles  which  require  large  blocks ;  in  the  second, 
you  can  adopt  such.  The  uses :  You  must  necessarily  take 
account  of  the  usages  of  the  locality  where  you  build,  since 
these  result,  most  frequently,  from  a  judicious  observation 
of  the  conditions  imposed  by  the  climate,  the  needs,  the 
method  of  work,  and  even  the  nature  of  the  materials.  I 
mean,  by  usages,  not   certain  imported  methods  which    are    a 


190  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

matter  of  fashion,  and  are  not  a  consequence  of  the  condi- 
tions I  speak  of,  but  those  which  are  furnished,  as  I  have 
just  said,  by  long  and  prudent  observation.  The  effect  to 
be  obtained:  The  capable  architect  is  able,  by  the  aid  of  the 
drawing  of  a  profile,  to  give  a  robust  or  delicate  aspect  to  a 
construction.  He  should  always  subordinate  the  drawing 
to  the  scale  of  the  construction  and  of  the  materials.  It  is 
ridiculous  to  pretend  to  obtain  large  profiles,  if  you  only 
possess  low  bank  stones,  or  those  of  a  kind  little  resisting, 
ii-  it  is  absurd  to  make  delicate  profiles  of  large  stones 
difficult    to  be    cut. 

"  You  see,  the  receipt  in  this,  as  in  everything  that  relates 
to  the  art  of  building,  is  first  to  reason. 

"The  Athenians,  who  built  monuments  in  white  marble, 
were  able  to  indulge  in  delicacy  in  the  tracing  of  their 
profiles,  which  could  not  be  applied  to  the  gross  limestones 
of  our  own  country.  And  when  the  Greeks  built  edifices 
with  stones  of  a  porous  nature,  with  large  grains,  they  were 
careful  to  cover  the  edges  with  a  very  fine  coating,  which 
enabled  them  to  conceal  the  grossness  of  the  material.  But 
while  they  could  adopt  this  method  in  a  soft  climate,  it 
could  not  be  done  with  us,  where  the  thermometer  descends, 
on  an  average,  during  the  two  winter  months,  to  four  degrees 
below  zero,  and  where  some  days,  as  now,  it  reaches  — 15°. 
The  coatings  would  have  to  be  renewed  every  spring. 

"  Our  architects    in   the  Middle  Ages,  who   did   not   follow 


THEORETICAL   STUDIES.  191 

what  was  called  the  classical  methods,  which  are  now  professed 
in  our  School  of  Fine  Arts,  and  who  did  not  go  to  Eome 
and  Athens  to  study  the  art  of  building  as  suitable  to  France, 
sought  to  draw  profiles  in  harmony  with  our  materials  and  cli- 
mate, as  seems  reasonable  ;  well,  they  found  and  practised  this 
sort  of  profile  drawing.     I  will  furnish  you  with  a  proof  of  it. 

"At  first,  as  they  did  not  make  rough-coatings,  as  I  have 
told  you,  but  placed  stones  all  cut,  without  having  to  retouch 
them  when  once  in  position,  they  were  obliged,  necessarily, 
to  trace  each  profile  in  the  height  of  a  course.  If  these  were 
high,  their  profiles  might  be  large  ;  if  low,  their  profiles 
were   small. 

"  Let  us  take,  for  instance,-  a  string-course.  A  layer  of 
stone  which  indicates  a  flooring  is  called  a  string-course  ;  an 
intermediate  rest  in  the  height  of  a  wall.  It  is  not  without 
good  reason  that  a  course  which  makes  a  projection  outside 
is  placed  at  the  level  of  a  flooring:  first,  because  it  is  good 
to  give  more  strength  to  the  wall  at  this  point,  where  it  re- 
ceives the  mortises ;  secondly,  because  the  construction  must  be 
'  flushed '  to  this  same  level,  to  regulate  it  for  ascending  to  a 
new  story.  But  this  course  must  not  arrest  the  rain-water,  and 
thus  provoke  the  penetration  of  moisture  in  the  walls  ;  on 
the  contrary,  it  must  be  so  profiled  as  to  divert  this  humidity, 
so  that  it  shall  not  rot  the  wood.  Here,  then,  you  see  at  A 
(Fig.  45)  how  architects,  who  thought  more  of  satisfying  the 
necessities  of  the  construction  than  of  borrowing  forms  from 


192 


THE  STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 


edifices  having  no  relations  with  the  conditions  imposed  by  oui 
climate  and  our  kind  of  structure,   usually  profiled   a   string- 


Fig.  45. 


course.    %Thev  traced  the  line  ah  according  to  an  angle  of  60 


degrees.     From  the  point  c  they  carried  down,  on  this  line  ah, 


THEORETICAL   STUDIES.  1 93 

a  perpendicular  c  b.  The  angle  a  b  c  was,  then,  a  right  angle. 
Taking  from  b  to  d,  a  length  more  or  less  extended,  according 
to  the  resistance  of  the  stone,  they  hollowed  out  the  moulding 
e ;  so  that  the  rain-water,  falling  on  the  inclined  surface  a  b,  did 
not  stop,  followed  the  inclination  b  d,  and  fell  from  d  to  the 
ground,  since  it  could  not  remount  in  the  hollow.  Thus 
the  facing  of  the  wall  cf  was  protected.  If  a  cornice  were 
in  question  (see  B)  they  established  a  first  course  g,  intended  to 
support  the  projection  of  the  coping  h;  then  they  placed,  as 
a  second  course,  this  coping  h,  taking  care  to  put  a  hollow 
at  i.  If  this  coping  were  to  receive  a  metal  or  stone  gutter, 
they  took  care  to  cut  an  inclination  from  j  to  k,  leaving  the 
horizontal  layer  at  the  right  of  the  joinings,  as  shown  you 
in  the  tracing  in  perspective  C.  The  gutter,  then,  was  carried 
on  these  reserves  I,  and  if  any  water  escaped  by  the  joinings, 
these  infiltrations,  finding  the  inclination  hj,  followed  it, 
reached  the  hollow  i,  and  fell  to  the  ground  without  penetrat- 
ing; the  thickness  of  the  wall. 

According  as  the  stone  used  was  hard  or  tender,  the  mould- 
ings were  more  or  less  solid  or  soft.  Thus,  let  us  suppose 
in  this  case  that  the  profile  has  been  cut  in  a  stone  of 
medium  hardness,  while,  if  this  stone  is  very  resisting,  you 
might  sharpen  the  profile  as  I  indicate  in  D.  You  will 
then  obtain  a  more  decided  effect,  deeper  shadows,  more 
brilliant  lights.  But  the  inclination  of  the  sun's  rays  must 
always  be  considered   in  tracing  exterior  profiles. 


194  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

If,  for  instance,  you  trace  a  profile  such  as  that  at  E,  it  is 
evident  that,  the  sun's  rays  following  the  direction  OP,  all 
your  mouldings  will  remain  in  the  shade  and  will  produce 
no  effect.  But  as  soon  as  the  sun  descends  so  as  to  follow 
a  more  inclined  direction  /.'  S,  all  the  mouldings  will 
receiv  equal  threads  of  light,  and  the  profile  will  give  a  suc- 
cession of  shades  and  lights  conformable  to  the  figure  F;  the 
sun's  rays,  following  the  same  direction  o'p,  will  meet  the 
projections  n  m,  which  will  be  luminous,  and  this  direction 
descending,  you  will  always  have  the  contrasts  between  the 
shadows  and  lights.  ]  ain  now  giving  you  general  views; 
it  is  for  you  to  observe  and  derive  profit  from  your  ob- 
servations, when  you  have  occasion  to  study  monumental 
structures. 

It  is  also  very  important  to  subordinate  the  drawing  of 
profiles  to  the  nature  of  the  materials  used.  You  cannot  give 
profiles  which  are  proper  to  stone,  to  a  cast  or  drawn-out 
matter  like  plaster,  cements,  and  mortar.  These  coating 
materials  only  permit  a  tine  and  little  projecting  moulding. 
So,  also,  it'  you  give  profiles  to  woodwork,  you  must  trace 
them  in  accordance  with  the  ligneous  and  tenacious  quality 
of  "wood,  avoiding  too  large  surfaces;  nor  must  you  lose  sight 
of  the  fact  that  wood  lends  itself  to  delicate  work,  is  only 
put  in  use  in  relatively  thin  pieces,  and  requires,  for  being 
conveniently  worked,  the  use  of  narrow  tools,  such  as  scissors, 
planes,  and  jointers,  which   run   according  to  the  grain,  and 


THEORETICAL   STUDIES.  195 

cannot  be  used  for  surfaces,  and  wide  extents.  In  all  this, 
economy  is  in  accord  with  common -sense  and  the  good  effect 
produced ;  for,  if  you  impose  a  profile  tracing  which  does  not 
agree  with  the  material  used,  you  provoke  the  employment 
of  unaccustomed,  difficult,  and  therefore  expensive  methods, 
and  your  work  appears  labored  and  far-fetched.  There  are 
architects  who  think  they  will  astonish  by  thus  adopting 
methods  not  in  accordance  with  the  materials  which  they 
put  into  the  work  ;  who,  if  they  build  in  bricks,  strain  to 
give  the  appearance  of  a  stone  structure  to  their  building ; 
who  pretend  to  imitate  marble  with  carpentry,  or  carpentry 
with  coatings ;  who  seem,  in  short,  to  labor  to  give  forms 
to  each  material  used,  not  appropriate  to  its  quality.  Take 
account  of  these  unhappy  methods,  so  as  always  to  avoid 
them,  if  you  wish  to  be  an  architect.  False  taste,  with  most 
of  those  who  engage  in  building,  is  often  an  obstacle  to  the 
employment  of  sensible  methods ;  for  unhappily,  with  us, 
classical  studies  have  forced  artists  into  this  false  path,  and 
therefore  the  public  has  acquired  a  passion  for  the  melan- 
choly results  to  which  it  leads ;  so  much  so,  that  it  is  often 
difficult  to  make  those  for  whom  you  build  listen  to  reason, 
and  proceed  according  to  what  is  enjoined  by  a  wise  regard 
for  the  employment  of  the  materials.  Never  mind ;  there 
are  subjects  on  which  an  architect  who  respects  his  art  ought 
never   to   yield." 

"  It   is,   indeed,"    said   M.    de    Gandelau,  "  a  strange  mania 


196  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

with  certain  people  who  build,  to  assume  to  impose  the  most 
ridiculous  fantasies  on  their  architects  ;  nor  does  this  date 
from  to-day,  as  Philibert  de  rOrme  complained  of  it  as  far 
back  as  his  time." 

•  Philibert  de  1'Orme,"  said   Paul,  "was,  I  think,  the  archi- 
tect who  built  the  Tuileries  '.  " 

"Yes,  in  part,  at  Least,"  said  the  cousin,     "Have  you   riot 
his  book  in  your  library  '.  " 

"  I  have,  and  will  go  and  get  it  for  you."     M.  de  Gandelau 
Boon  returned  with  a  venerable  folia 

"  Htiv,"  said  he  to  his  son,  "  I  give  it  to  y<  u.  and  you 
will  do  well  i"  meditate  its  pages.  Here  is  the  title  of  the 
preface:  'Singular  advice  for  those  who  undertake  to  build 
flippantly,  without  the  advice  and  counsel  of  learned  archi- 
tects: ami  the  faults  which  they  commit,  and  the  inconven- 
iencea  which  result  therefrom.'  It  shall  be  the  beginnii 
oi    your   architectural   library,  it'  you   cl  thai   profession; 

and  you  could  uot  read  a  work  better  calculated  to  inspire 
wise  sentiments,  and  respect  for  the  calling.  I  cannot  speak 
professionally,  as  1  do  not  understand  the  art;  but  by  reading 
some  of  these  pages,  I  have  at  least  spared  myself  the  expen- 
sive experiment  of  some  proprietors,  to  wish  to  erect  their 
own  buildings." 

'•  Philibert's  sincerity  was  not  very  profitable   to  him,"  said 
the  cousin. 

"  Perhaps    not  ;  but  he  left  a  book  which  makes  him   esti- 


THEORETICAL   STUDIES.  1 97 

mable  as  a  man,  independently  of  his  merits  as  an  architect, 
three  centuries  after  its  publication ;  for  it  is  dated  1576. 
This  advantage  compensates  for  some  drawbacks  during  life  ; 
for  people  are  not  liked  for  speaking  the  truth,  until  they 
are  no  longer  here  to  receive  the  price  of  their  sincerity  from 
public  opinion." 

"Hum;  then  we  must  not  be  surprised  that  few  dare  to 
announce  these  truths,  and  that  architects,  since  they  are 
still  living,  prefer  the  calm  and  well-being  which  complai- 
sance toward  their  employers  procure  for  them,  though  there 
may  be  late  regrets  and  useless  expenditures,  to  this  posthu- 
mous glory." 

"  Come,  come,"  said  M.  de  Gandelau,  "  you  are  not  one  of 
tljese  architects,  and  yet  you  have  an  excellent  business ;  I 
know  not  whether  you  will  be  talked  of  three  centuries 
hence,  but  I  know  that  you  are  esteemed  now." 

"  Then  your  judgment  a  little  while  ago  was  not  an  abso- 
lute one  ? " 

"  ISTo,  surely ;  the  way  of  putting  things  is  much  in  all 
this,  and  there  is  a  manner  of  telling  the  truth.  You  will 
agree,  however,  that  you  have  lost  more  than  one  contract 
from  having  been  too  sincere  at  the  beginning  ? " 

"  ISTo  doubt ;  it  is  even  probable  that,  if  I  had  not  been 
served  by  certain  favorable  circumstances  which  put  me  in 
relation  with  clients  used  to  a  large  scale  of  operations,  with 
men  of  minds  too  elevated  and  serious  to  occupy  themselves 


198  THE    STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

with  the  details  of  our  art,  I  should  have  had  little  to  do. 
Iu  general,  you  are  right,  and  most  persons  who  have  con- 
structions erected,  hesitate  to  apply  to  architects  familiar 
with  their  profession,  but  independent  in  character.  What 
they  seek  (and  in  this  women  often  have  an  unfortunate 
influence  complacent   mediocrities,  who  lend   themselves 

to  all  their  fancies,  to  repent  of  it  shortly  afterwards." 

"You  attack  us  unjustly/'  said  Madame  de  Gandelau. 
"Women  do  not  presume  to  understand  architecture,  nor  do 
they  ask  for  anything  but  a  good  arrangement  of  the  inte- 
riors; which  is  very  natural,  as  they  have  the  direction  of 
the  household  affairs,  and  suffer  more  than  any  one  from 
inconvenient  or  had  arrangements  in  house-.'" 

"Agreed;  but  on  the  one  hand  the  housewives  ask  for 
distributions  for  their  convenience,  which  are  often  compli- 
cated and  demand  special  arrangements;  and,  on  the  other, 
the  masters  wish  exteriors  which  betray  such  a  style,  or  such 
an  aspect;  so  that  it  is  difficult,  if  not  impossible,  to  concili- 
ate these  two  exigencies,  which  are  often  antagonistic  The 
unhappy  architect,  desiring  to  please  everybody,  to  harmonize 
the  contradictory  demands,  obtains  nothing  good;  and,  the 
work  finished,  each  in  his  turn  throws  a  stone  at  him.  How 
many  times  I  have  been  called  upon  to  repair  the  blunders 
which  were  the  consequences  of  these  disagreements  and  un- 
lucky complaisances  of  the  architect!  I  have  then  been  told 
how  sorry  they  were    not   to   have  engaged  me  to  direct  the 


THEORETICAL   STUDIES.  1 99 

work  !  It  was  a  trifle  late,  and  this  example  did  not  serve 
others." 

"  What  is  to  be  done  ? "  asked  Madame  de  Gandelau. 
"  If  the  matter  is  as  you  say,  you  offer  Paul  a  career  which 
seems  to  me  nothing  better  than  a  blind  alley  ;  and  unless 
he  receives  an  engagement  in  government  works  — " 

"  0,  that  is  a  chance  too  remote !  besides,  a  career  which 
depends  on  the  government  is  no  career  at  all.  A  man 
must  learn  how  to  get  along  without  counting  on  such  very 
precarious  aid.     Then,  the  elect  are  but  few  in  number." 

"  Well  ? " 

"  Well,  it  is  necessary  to  learn,  to  acquire  knowledge  and 
reason,  the  habit  of  observing  everywhere,  and  above  all  in 
the  rising  generation.  When  the  people  of  the  world,  when 
those  who  have  buildings  erected,  and  who  are,  therefore, 
favored  by  fortune,  know  a  little  more  than  they  do  now, 
they  will  perceive  that  everything  remains  to  be  learned  in 
no  matter  what  branch  of  knowledge,  and  that  the  best  way 
is  to  repair  to  special  men  in  dealing  with  special  matters, 
and  to  let  them  deal  with  them.  No  one  ventures  to  give 
advice  to  a  surgeon  who  is  tending  a  wounded  man,  as  to 
the  manner  of  performing  an  operation.  Why  does  every- 
body interfere  to  give  his  opinion  to  an  architect,  on  the 
way  in  which  he  ought  to  manage  a  construction  ? " 

"  It  is  not  quite  the  same  thing." 

"Almost;   only,  madame,  as  it   is  a  matter  of  life,  no  one 


200  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

breathes  a  word  to  the  surgeon;  but,  as  architecture  only 
concerns  the  purse,  and  sometimes  the  health,  at  the 
expiration  of  the  work,  every  one  has  his  say  to  the 
architect." 

"Well,  we  have  wandered  far  from   the   profiles,"  said   M. 
de  Gandelau,  rising. 


A    HIATUS. 


20 1 


CHAPTEE  XX. 


A   HIATUS. 


FEW  days  after  this  conversation,  a  large  body  of 
troops  crossed  that  part  of  the  country.  The  Ger- 
mans were  manoeuvring  on  both  banks  of  the  Loire, 
and  menaced  Tours.  A  general  came  to  take  up  his  quarters 
at  M.  de  Gandelau's.  He  was  an  acquaintance  of  the  cousin. 
The  latter  was  becoming  very  impatient  of  the  inactivity  to 
which  lie  had  been  reduced  since  the  war  had  taken  so  serious 
a  turn. 

He  had  a  long  talk  with  the  general  in  the  evening,  and  the 
next  morning  he  declared  to  M.  de  Gandelau  that  he  should 
leave  with  the  troops  who  were  passing  to  the  seat  of  war  ;  that 
able  officers  were  wanting,  and  that  in  the  exigency  lie  might 
fulfil  an  officer's  duty ;  that  his  friend  the  general  highly  ap- 
proved liis  decision;  and  that,  under  circumstances  so  grave, 
he  thought  it  his  duty  not  to  hesitate  to  go,  since  he  might 
render  some  service  to  France.  M.  de  Gandelau  did  not  try 
to  retain  him,  being  too  well  aware  of  the  motives  which 
decided  his  guest. 

"What  shall  we  do  with  Paul?"  he  asked. 


202  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

"  Have  you  a  Latin  edition  of  Yitruvius  in  your  library  ? " 

"  Yes." 

""Well,  confide  it  to  me;  1  will,  before  going,  explain  to  Paul 
in  a  hour  how  to  work  at  this  treatise:  this  will  prevenl  him 
from  forgetting  what  Latin  he  knows,  and  he  will  profit  by  it 
in  the  studies  which  we  have  begun." 

"An  excellent  idea." 

"You  will  require  Paul  to  give  you,  twice  a  week,  the 
translation  of  a  chapter,  with  explanatory  designs;  this  will 
keep  his  hand  in  and  occupy  his  mind.  1  don't  supjHi.se  his 
translation  will  eclipse  Perrault's;  but  no  matter,  he  will  not 
wholly  lose  his  time.  As  soon  as  I  can  return,  you  will 
see  me." 

Paul  was  much  grieved  at  his  cousin's  departure,  and  his 
own  inability  to  follow  him  ;  he  would  have  preferred  to  con- 
tinue his  studies  on  the  art  of  building  by  a  course  of  military 
engineering  on  the  -round;  but  this  would  have  been  annoy 
ing  to  the  cousin,  and  Madame  de  Gandelau  would  have  died 
of  anxiety.  Paul  was  provided  with  Yitruvius,  and  the  work 
prescribed  was  explained  to  him. 

Two  hours  after,  the  cousin,  armed  with  a  small  valise, 
took  up  his  march  with  his  friend  the  general,  whose  troops 
were  proceeding  towards  Chateauroux.  Promises  to  write 
were  made  on  both  sides. 

It  may  readily  lie  imagined  that  M.  de  Gandelau's  house 
assumed    a    very  gloomy  aspect   after   this   sudden    departure. 


A   HIATUS. 


Its  master  had,  from  the  beginning  of  the  war,  equipped  and 
sent  off  all  the  healthy  servants  and  work-people.  Only  two 
or  three  old  domestics,  and  several  women,  the  husbands  or 
children  of  most  of  whom  were  in  the  army,  remained  at  the 
chateau.  M.  and  Madame  de  Gandelau  no  longer  inhabited 
the  drawing-room,  where  beds  had  been  disposed  for  the 
wounded,  in  case  any  such  came. 

When  the  cousin  had  gone,  Paul  went  to  visit  the  work- 
yard.  It  was  deserted;  the  snow  covered  the  stone-work, 
the  freestone,  and  the  sparse  carpentry.  The  walls  raised  to 
a  certain  height,  protected  by  the  rubbish,  surmounted  by  a 
sheet  of  snow,  their  faces  browned  by  contrast  with  the  white 
shroud  which  surrounded  them,  some  pieces  of  wood  blackened 
by  moisture,  gave  to  the  outlines  of  the  construction  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  debris  of  a  fire. 

Though  Paul,  at  his  age,  was  not  easily  accessible  to  gloomy 
thoughts,  the  poor  boy,  on  seeing  this  solitude,  could  not 
repress  his  tears.  He  imagined  this  work-yard  as  it  was  a 
month  before,  all  alive  with  men  engaged  in  their  work.  All 
were  gone.  The  soul  of  this  future  house,  which  represented 
for  him  the  joy  of  the  family,  had  just  quitted  it. 

Despite  the  cold,  he  sat  down  upon  a  stone,  and  with  his 
face  between  his  hands,  gave  himself  up  to  sad  reflections. 
It  was  the  first  grief,  the  first  unlooked-for  hardship,  which 
he  had  suffered ;  it  seemed  to  him  that  all  was  over,  and  that 
there  was  no  longer  any  hope  or  possible  happiness  for  him 
in  the  world. 


204  THE    STORY   OF  A    HOUSE. 

A  hand,  placed  on  his  shoulder,  made  him  atari  ;  raising 
his  head,  lie  saw  his  father  behind  him.  His  first  movement 
was  to  throw  himself,  sobbing,  into  his  father's  arms. 

"Come,  calm  yourself,  my  boy,"  said  M.  de  Gandelau.  "  We 
live  in  times  of  iri.il;  win.  knows  what  is  reserved  for  us? 
Perhaps  they  have  hardly  begun.  Think  what  grief  there 
is  at  this  moment  in  France!  What  an-  our  anxieties  ami 
troubles  beside  that  anguish?  Keep  your  tears;  perhaps  you 
will  (inly  have  too  much  occasion  to  Bhed  them  hereafter. 
There  is  always  time  to  despair.  I  saw  you  coming  this  way, 
and  followed  you,  foreseeing  your  grief.  But  what  is  it  for? 
Nothing,  or  a  trifle,  at  least  Return  bravely  to  work,  alone, 
since  our  friend  has  left  us  to  fulfil  a  sacred  duty.  II. •  will 
conic  hack-  v.. u  have  learned  t.<  love  and  esteem  him  more 
and  in.. re;  show  him  that  you  are  worthy  of  the  affection  he 
has  evinced  for  you.  in  giving  over  t.>  him  then  the  results 
of  serious  labor,  lie  would  certainly  1..-  touched  by  your 
grief,  in  which  we  earnestly  sympathize  with  you;  he  assured 
that  he  will  he  still  more  touched  to  see  that  you  have 
scrupulously  followed  his  parting  instructions,  and  that  his 
presence  is  not  the  sole  motive  which  impels  you  to  love 
your  task." 

Father  and  son  returned  to  the  house.  M.  de  Gandelau's 
advice,  and  the  care  with  which  he  led  Paul  to  look  forward 
to  brighter  days,  had  little  by  little  restored  to  the  latter, 
if   not  gayety,  at   least   calmness,  and   the    desire  to  do  well. 


A    HIATUS.  205 


M.  de  Gandelau  above  all  feared  that  his  son  would  be  dis- 
couraged, and  would  acquire  the  vague  and  fruitless  melan- 
choly with  which  youth  sometimes  loves  to  nourish  itself, 
and  which  enervates  the  best  endowed  minds. 

He  went  then  to  Paul's  room,  and  taking  up  Yitruvius, 
began  to  look  it  over.  M.  de  Gandelau  was  well-read,  though 
he  never  made  a  parade  of  his  knowledge ;  it  was  a  gift 
which  he  reserved  to  himself.  Familiar  with  the  classical 
authors,  he  could  read  —  if  not  explain  everything  as  an 
architect  —  the  text  of  Yitruvius. 

"  See,"  said  he  to  Paul,  "  here  is  a  chapter  which  must  be 
interesting,  and  will  teach  you  a  great  deal ;  it  is  Chapter 
YIII. :  '  De  generibus  structure  et  earum  qualitatibus,  inodis 
ac  locis.'     How  do  you  translate   this  title  ? " 

"'Of  the  kinds  of  constructions  and  their  qualities,  with 
reference  to  their  uses  and  localities,'  "  replied  Paul. 

"  Yes,  that  is  it ;  but  in  looking  over  this  chapter  I  see 
that  it  only  treats  of  masonry ;  the  author,  in  using  the 
word  '  structura,'  seems  to  me  to  refer  only  to  construc- 
tions made  of  brick  or  stone.  A  better  translation,  perhaps, 
would  be  this  :  '  Of  the  different  kinds  of  masonry,  the 
properties  of  such  structures,  by  reason  of  their  uses  and 
local  circumstances.'  Well,  go  on  and  translate  this  eighth 
chapter.  I  see  that  the  author  describes  the  natures  of 
masonries,  the  use  of  which  he  recommends  under  this  or 
that  condition.      Come !      Have   good    courage,   and   imagine 


206  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

that    your    cousin    is    here    all    ready    to    correct    your    mis- 
takes." 

Paul  set  to  work,  and  tried  to  illustrate  each  of  the  de- 
scriptions of  Vitruvius  by  sketches.  Of  course  this  gave  him 
much  trouble  ;  many  of  the  words  were  unfamiliar  to  him, 
and  the  dictionary  aided  him  hut  little  when  he  wished  to 
discover  their  exact  meaning.  Yet.  little  by  little,  the  work 
absorbed  him.  He  tried  to  recall  the  buildings  he  had  seen. 
so  that  he  might  understand  the  author;  he  recollected  some 
of  his  cousin's  instructions  :  and.  Bomehow  or  other,  as  he 
studied  and  translated,  he  put  very  tolerably  drawn  sketches 
on  paper,  though  they  were  not  always  the  true  expression 
of  the  author's  description. 

During  the  latter  part  of  December  and  the  early  part  of 
January,  he  succeeded  in  translating  a  dozen  of  the  chapters 
which  his  father  selected,  and  in  illustrating  the  text  This 
made  him  eager  to  know  the  contemporary  monuments  of  the 
author,  and  he  examined  with  great  interest  some  engravings 
of  Piranesi,  representing  the  antiquities  of  Home,  which  his 
father  possessed.  M.  de  Gandelau  had  advised  Paul  to  write 
down  the  questions  which  the  study  of  Vitruvius  suggested 
to  his  mind,  to  submit  to  his  cousin  when  he  came  back. 
The  days  thus  passed  quickly  away  ;  and  though  sadness 
and  anxiety  darkened  the  hours,  M.  de  Gandelau  em] Joyed 
himself  ceaselessly  with  assuaging  misery  out  of  doors,  and 
organizing   the   defence     against    the    invaders,   Paul   worked 


a  hiatus  207 


bravely  and  saw  his  note-book  filling  up,  and  Madame  de 
Gandelau  organized  a  sewing-circle  with  the  village  women, 
for  our  poor  soldiers  deprived  of  everything.  When  evening 
came,  the  members  of  the  family  still  assembled  with  the  secret 
joy  inspired  by  duties  fulfilled. 

A  few  days  after,  the  cousin  returned,  and,  it  is  needless 
to  say,  was  welcomed  with  open  arms.  Paul  was  wild  with 
joy,  and  they  at  once  began  to  talk  of  resuming  the  works. 
Marie's  last  letters  announced  that  she  should  return  towards 
the  end  of  the  following  winter.  These  letters,  full  of  anxious 
thoughts,  of  anguish  experienced  far  away  from  France,  made 
no  allusion  to  the  future  house.  If,  then,  it  could  be  finished, 
the  surprise  would  be  complete.  While  the  cousin  was  taking 
the  rest  necessary  to  him,  he  read  over  and  corrected  Paul's 
translation,  and  rectified  his  sketches.  The  whole  was  copied 
out;  and  thus  arrived  the  first  days  of  March,  when  it  was 
decided  that  the  work-yard  should  be  once  more  opened. 


208  THE  STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

RESUMPTION   OF   BUILDING.       THE   CAEPENTBY   WORK. 

iV^y-V  m-  weather  was  fine  towards  the  middle  of  March: 
■r^l^jt    ^'A-  w,"'k  was  resumed,  and  it  became  necessary  to 
J>J  \   -  •      the   carpenter   the   details   requisite   for   the 


completion  of  the  floorings  and  roofs.  Paul  now  more  readily 
understood  the  sketches  drawn  by  his  cousin,  and  began  to 
be  able  to  make  himself  useful.  He  had  adopted  the  excel- 
habit  of  asking  for  explanations  when  at  6rst  sight  he 
thought  he  could  not  faithfully  interpret  a  Bummary  tracing; 
nor  was  tin-  cousin  chary  of  his  explanations  and  comments. 
His  patience  was  inexhaustible  "Whenever  Paul  was  per- 
plexed, and  could  not  solve  a  difficult  question,  the  cousin, 
before  setting  him  right,  let  him  try  for  a  while  to  unravel  it. 

"Reflect,"  he  said;  "you  will  always  find  a  solution ;  if  it 
is  not  a  good  one,  I  will  come  to  your  assistance;  but  you 
yourself  must  find  out  something.  You  can  only  thoroughly 
comprehend  the  solution  of  one  who  is  experienced,  after  you 
have  turned  the  subject  over,  and  made  several  efforts  to 
solve  the  problem  yourself.  It  is  a  very  necessary  prelimi- 
nary exercise,  and   prepares    the    mind  to  understand.     Make 


THE   CARPENTRY    WORK.  209 


a  general  section  of  the  principal  building,  on  the  billiard- 
room  and  your  brother-in-law's  study,  —  that  is,  a  transversal 
section,  which  will  indicate  the  walls,  floorings,  chimneys, 
and  roofs.  You  have  nearly  all  the  needful  elements.  Try 
to  combine  all  this,  so  as  to  take  account  of  all  the  parts  of 
the  building.  I  will  not  look  at  it  till  you  have  finished. 
Then  I  will  correct  it,  and  the  corrections  will  be  of  use  to 
you." 

Availing  himself  of  the  details  already  traced,  Paul  drew, 
not  without  difficulty,  the  transversal  section  ;  but  the-  car- 
pentry work  of  the  roofs  was  awkwardly  designed,  and  its 
composition  seemed  difficult  and  complicated  to  him.  He 
did  not  know  how  to  close  the  wide  opening  uniting  the 
billiard-room  with  the  drawing-room.  The  dormer-windows 
in  the  roofs  caused  him  serious  trouble.  Then  he  had  much 
difficulty  in  arranging  in  his  mind  the  joining  together  of  all 
these  parts.  However  hard  he  tried,  he  could  not  clearly 
represent  to  himself  the  position  of  each.  He  was  not  satis- 
fied ;   and  he  told  his  cousin  so,  plainly. 

"  I  am  very  glad,"  replied  the  cousin,  "  that  you  are  not 
satisfied  !  That  would  lie  a  bad  sign,  for  it  would  prove  that 
you  had  not  made  a  serious  effort.  Your  walls  are  quite  in 
place,  according  to  the  profile  which  we  have  adopted.  But 
the  carpentry  and  the  dormer-windows  !  All  that  cannot  re- 
main, —  it  lacks  simplicity.  Why  so  many  pieces  of  wood  ? 
Have  you  made  account  of  their  utility  ?     We   have   walls ; 


2IO  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

let  us  profit  by  them.  Why  not  make  use  of  the  wall  which 
separates  the  billiard-room  from  the  study,  to  carry  a  part  of 
the  carpentry  work  of  the  roof,  inasmuch  as  this  wall  re- 
ceives the  chimney-shafts,  which  must  necessarily  be  carried 
above  the  roof  ?  You  have  not  thought  of  the  chimneys ;  it 
was  foolish,  for  you  have  them  indicated  on  the  plans  of  the 
ground-floor,  first  story,  and  attic." 

"  I  thought  of  them,"  rejoined  Paul,  "  but  I  did  not  know 
how  to  carry  them  up." 

"Then  you  have  not  traced  them,  which  is  a  means  of 
avoiding  the  difficulty  ;  but  you  know  well  enough  that  they 
must  pass  above  the  roof!  I  do  not  allow  you  to  put  a 
difficulty  aside ;  that  is  no  way  of  solving  it.  Come,  let  us 
look  at  all  this  together." 

The  section  was  soon  corrected  (Fig.  4G),  and  the  cousin 
did  not  fail  to  furnish  it  with  the  details  which  the  rooms 
on  which  the  section  was  made  were  to  receive.  This 
pleased  Paul  very  much ;  he  thus  saw  the  billiard-room  com- 
pleted, with  its  opening  upon  the  drawing-room ;  his  brother- 
in-law's  study,  with  its  doors;  then,  above,  his  bedchamber 
and  toilet-room,  and  the  two  rooms  in  the  attic.  He  thought 
the  drawing  charming ;  he  seemed  already  to  be  entering 
the  rooms,  and  enjoying  his  sister's  surprise  in  looking  about 
her.  He  was  anxious  to  show  these  fine  things  to  Madame 
de  Gandelau  at  once ;  but  the  cousin  exhorted  him  to  patience. 

"  All  this  signifies  nothing,"  said  he,  "  it  is  only  an  image ; 


__  *<-:r ._ 


Kg    44. -THE   BAY-WINDOW   FOR   THE   BILLIARD-ROOM.  -  Page  .87. 


^ 


Fig.  46  —SECTIONAL   VIEW   OF   THE   HOUSE.  —  Page  211 


THE   CARPENTRY   WORK. 


21  I 


we  must  consider  the  wood-work  and  interior  in  detail,  and 
there  is  much  to  correct  and  revise  in  making  this  study. 
Let  us  leave  the  interior  for  a  while,  and  examine  the  car- 
pentry work  of  the   roof.      Here   is   a  plan   of  it  (Fig.   47). 


B  HA 


Fio.  47. 

The  walls  A  B  are  the  gables  which  are  to  carry  the  bindings, 
or  purlins.  We  have,  at  0  D,  two  channel  walls  which  also 
form  gables  and  receive  purlins.  But  the  spaces  E  C  are  too 
wide  to  receive  purlins  from  E  to  C.  Between  them  we 
reckon  6  m.  60  c. ;  but  the  purlins  should  not  be  more  than  4 
metres  in  extent,  to  avoid  flexion.  We  must  then  place  inter- 
mediate ribs  at  G  II,  along  the  reveals  of  the  middle  dormer- 
windows  7".  Thus  the  purlins  from  A  to  G  will  be  only  4 
metres  in  length,  and  we  can  relieve  them  by  trusses  on  the 
sides   of  the   extreme  gables.     From  K  to  L   we  shall  have 


212 


THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 


branches  of  gutter-leads  at  the  penetration  of-  the  roofs.  Let 
us  establish  the  ribs  G  II  (Fig.  48).  The  height,  between 
floorings,  of  the  attic  story,  must  be  3  metres.     We  will,  then, 


Fig.  4S. 


place  the  two  rafters  A  on  two  sleepers  joined  by  a  tie-beam 
which  will  pass  under  the  floor;  on  these  rafters,  a  tie-beam 
B ;   then,  to  unite  the  rafters  with  the  tie-beam,  the  braces  C. 


THE   CARPENTRY   WORK.  213 

At  the  extremity  of  this  tie-beam  will  be  the  purlins  D.  The 
main  rafters  E  will  come  upon  this  tie-beam,  and  will  seize 
the  king-post  F.  Under  the  second  purlins,  H,  must  be  placed 
the  braces  G,  forming  a  turned-up  tie-beam.  The  ridge-tree  / 
will  carry  upon  this  king-post  with  oblique  trusses.  These 
purlins  will  carry  from  the  other  end  on  the  gables.  Thus 
we  can  place  the  laying  on  of  the  rafters  which  will  receive 
the    scantling   and   slating. 

"These  pieces  (tie-beams,  reverse  tie-beams,  main  rafters) 
might  pass  across  the  longitudinal  wall  K,  receiving  the  chim- 
ney-shafts ;  and  the  carpentry  will  prop  up  this  wall,  and, 
reciprocally,  the  wall  will  relieve  and  tighten  the  carpentry 
work.  For  the  middle  of  the  structure,  having  the  two  walls 
C  D,  it  will  suffice  to  place  the  ridge  L  with  the  two  relief- 
ties  M,  united  at  the  extremities  of  a  purlin  N,  which  will 
hold  them  from  moving.  "We  will  place  the  purlins  a  b  (Fig. 
47),  which  will  receive  the  ridges  0  of  the  roofs  in  penetration. 
These  ridges  will  also  be  relieved  by  the  ties  B.  The  branches 
of  the  gutters  S,  repeated  at  S',  will  unite  upon  these  ridges  0. 
The  raftering  will  thus  be  everywhere  well  established,  and 
we  shall  only  have  a  little  wood  to  put  to  use,  relatively  to 
the  surface  of  the  building,  as  we  shall  avail  ourselves  as 
much  as  possible  of  the  interior  walls.  The  gables  enable  us 
to  avoid  hips,  which  are  difficult  to  establish  and  cover,  and 
require  a  great  deal  of  wood.  The  roofing  of  the  staircase 
remains.     To  show  you  the  method  of  constructing  it,  I  will 


214  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 


give  you  a  drawing  in  perspective.  This  roofing  is  supported 
on  the  walls  which  rise  above  the  cornice  of  the  structure, 
but  it  penetrates  the  roof  of  the  main  structure  at  X  (Fig.  47). 
You  will  observe,  in  examining  the  drawing  (Fig.  39),  that 
the  walls  of  the  staircase  leave  an  an<jle  without  a  resting- 
place,  on  the  hall.  "We  must,  therefore,  carry  the  hip  of  the 
roof  on  this  vacant  space.  For  this  purpose,  we  will  place  a 
dormer-truss  on  the  two  heads  of  the  wall,  which  will  receive 
the  end  of  this  rear  hip  V,  indicated  on  Fig.  47.  This  arrange- 
ment may  be  seen  on  the  drawing  in  perspective  (Fig.  49), 
which  shows  the  square  tower  of  the  main  staircase,  with  its 
carpentry  work.  We  will  raise  the  lop-sided  newels  of  the 
staircase  to  the  level  of  the  cornice ;  we  will  place  wall-plates 
B  on  the  walls ;  then  the  ground-plates  C  on  the  three  angles 
of  the  newel.  On  the  ends,  united  at  the  middle  of  the  latter, 
we  will  raise  two  king-posts  D,  and  the  three  hips  E.  The  foot 
of  the  two  king-posts  will  be  united  by  the  braces  F.  As  for 
the  rear  hip  G,  it  will  join  the  face  of  the  king-post  of  the  dor- 
mer-truss, as  I  have  drawn  at  G  ;  and  that  this  dormer-truss 
may  not  be  pushed  out  of  place  by  this  hip,  the  braces  H 
will  unite  the  head  of  the  king-post  of  the  dormer-truss  with 
the  king-post  of  the  roof  D'.  On  the  angle's  of  the  hips,  at 
/,  we  must  fix  brackets  to  place  the  ends  K  of  the  purlins, 
which   will  relieve  the  span  of  the  rafters. 

"  At  L  you  see  the  gable  which  is  to  join  the  staircase  roof- 
ing ;  and  do  not  forget  that  you  must  incrust,  along  the  walls 


Fig.  49. -ROOF  OF  THE  MAIN   STAIRCASE.  —  Page  214. 


THE   CARPENTRY   WORK.  215 

against  which  the  coverings  in  penetration  are  traced,  stone 
fillets  M,  which  form  '  pads/  or  '  solins,'  above  these  coverings, 
to  prevent  the  rain-water  from  passing  between  the  slating 
and  the  wall.  These  '  pads  '  are  most  often  made  of  plaster 
or  mortar,  on  the  covering  itself;  but  the  latter  being  subject 
to  motion,  they  are  apt  to  become  unstuck,  and  must  be  con- 
stantly repaired.  Being  incrusted  in  the  masonry  above  the 
inclination  of  the  covering,  they  shelter  the  junction  of  the 
slating  or  tiling  with  the  walls ;  and  being  independent,  they 
are  not  subject  to  be  damaged  by  the  motion  of  the  carpen- 
try work. 

"Please  trace  this  carpentry  work  on  a  scale  of  two  cen- 
timetres the  metre ;  I  will  correct  your  drawings,  and  we 
will  give  them  to  the  carpenter  to  establish  the  wood-work 
as  soon  as  possible.  We  will  indicate  the  sizes  of  the  wood- 
pieces.  Thus,  the  main  rafters  should  be  20  c.  X  18c,  the 
braces  8  c.  X  18  c,  the  king-poles  18  c  X  18  c,  the  tie-beams 
the  same,  the  shanks  20c  X  20c,  the  rafters  8c  X  10c 
The  purlins  20  c  X  20  c  at  the  most,  and  without  sap-wood 
or   flaws." 

"  What  are  '  flaws '  ? " 

"  They  are  depressions,  lack  of  material  which  appears  on 
the  edges  when  crooked  wood  is  cut,  and  which  thus  leaves 
the  sap-wood  visible,  and  even  a  concavity,  on  these  edges,  as 
I  show  you  in  A  (Fig.  50).  You  will  take  care  not  to 
allow  flaws  in  the  wood  which  the  carpenter  uses  for  the 
roofs    and  joists. 


2l6  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

"  In  studying  our  floorings,  I  see  that,  in  the  cases  of  the 
billiard-room,  dining-room,  and  drawing-room,  we  shall  do 
well  to  put  two  beams  in  each  of  these  rooms  to  receive 
the  joists,  by  reason  of  the  extent  and  partitions  above  these 
floorings.  You  recollect  that  we  reserved  this  question,  and 
that  in  the  drawing  (Fig.  42)  and  the  section  (Fig.  40)  we 
took  the  position  of  these  beams  for  granted.  The  joists  in 
these  three  rooms,  in  place  of  going  from  one  lateral  wall 
to    the    other,  will    carry    '  wall-gables  '     on     these    beams. 


A 


Fig.  50. 

But  these  beams  were  of  the  best  oak,'  and  by  bending, 
which  is  at  least  unpleasant  to  the  eye.  AVe  will  make, 
therefore,  each  of  them  with  two  sawed  pieces,  as  I  have 
already  described  to  you,  and  we  will  interpolate  between 
the  two  pieces  a  strip  of  sheet-iron.  This  will  enable  us  to 
make  use  of  these  beams  like  'summers,'  and  to  unite  the 
joists  on  their  faces,  instead  of  placing  them  above ;  and  so 
we  shall  not  have  a  too  great  projection  under  the  ceilings. 
Thus  (Fig.  51),  having  two  pieces  A  of  15  c.  X  30  c,  we  in- 
terpose a  sheet-iron  strip  B  of  0.003  m.  in  thickness.  We 
will  bolt  the  whole  together  at  intervals,  as  shown  at  D, 
and  we  will  put  the  ends  of  the  joists  E  in  the  holes  C. 
Some  iron  plat  bands  shall  be  nailed  to  unite  these   ends  to 


THE   CARPENTRY   WORK. 


2\y 


each  other,  and  we  shall  thus  obtain  perfectly  rigid  floorings. 
Corbels  will  relieve  the  span  of  the  beams,  which  will  only 
enter  the  walls  to  a  distance  of  15  centimetres.  There  is 
still  a  detail  to  prepare  for  the  carpenter.  You  must  see 
to  it  that  the  ends  of  the  beams  fixed  in  the  masonry 
shall  be  laid  on  with  red-lead,  and  that  they  shall  be 
shut  in  a  box  of  zinc,  No.  14,  to  prevent  the  moisture  of 
the  walls  from  penetrating  the  fibre  of  the  wood.  There  is 
your  task  marked  out ;  put  it  in  shape,  and  to-morrow, 
when  I  have  looked  over  your  drawings,  we  will  send  for 
Jean  Godard,  and  choose  the  wood  in  the  reserve  cut  by 
your  father." 


Pro.   51. 

The  next  day  Paul  produced  his  drawings.  They  needed 
many  corrections,  but  the  cousin  was  able  to  compliment 
him  on  his  improvement.  Paul  took  a  good  deal  of  trouble, 
tried  hard  to  understand ;  and  if  he  did  not  always  discover 
the  most  simple  and  natural  solutions,  at  least  he  showed 
that  he  stopped  to  think  before  putting  anything  down  upon 
paper. 


2l8  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 


Jean  Godard  was  summoned  and  the  drawings  shown  to 
him :  some  explanations  were  made  to  him,  after  which  the 
cousin  asked  him  if  he  had  any  remarks  to  make.  Jean 
Godard  scratched  his  ear,  and  said  nothing. 

"  Is  there  not  something  you  don't  quite  understand,  or 
that  appears  defective  to  you  ? "  asked  the  cousin. 

"  No,  Monsieur  Architect ;  but,  if  it 's  all  the  same  to  you, 
these  floorings  are  not  according  to  ordinary  usage ;  this  will 
be  difficult  —  we  are  not  accustomed  —  and  you  see  —  this  is 
not  ordinary  carpentry  work." 

"  That  is,  it  will  be  more  expensive  than  floorings  made 
after  your  method  ?  " 

"  Dame  !  —  you  see  there  is  workmanship  all  the  same,  — 
all  this  wood  here  —  must  be  sawed  —  perhaps  planed  too." 

"  Examine  it  well,  Jean.  The  joists  must  be  sawed  on 
two  sides  only,  those  which  are  visible ;  whereas,  ordinary 
joists  are  taken  in  sawings.  If  we  asked  you  to  furnish 
the  wood,  you  might  pretend  that  you  would  not  find  joists 
so  disposed  ;  but  we  must  take  the  wood  we  have  on  hand. 
If  it  is  unhewn  timber,  it  will  be  sufficient  to  saw  two 
faces,  thus  (Fig.  52) ;  it  will  not  matter  if  you  leave  the 
faces  A  roughly  squared,  and  only  purged  of  the  sap-wood. 
If  you  take  your  joists  from  large  timbers  (Fig.  53),  you 
will  only  have  to  saw  them  as  I  trace  at  B.  But  I  prefer 
to  take  unhewn  timber,  because  it  does  not  'draw  at  the  core,' 
as    that   does,   necessarily,   which    is    sawed   in   four ;    and    I 


THE   CARPENTRY   WORK. 


219 


think  we  shall  have  enough  of  the  first  so  as  not  to  have 
to  employ  this  means.  We  shall  only  have  to  pay  you, 
then,  for  the  sawing  of  two  faces,  as  we  do  for  the  joists 
which  you  ordinarily  use.  As  for  the  beams,  they  also  will 
only  be  sawed  on  two  faces ;  for  if  we  take  them  in  a  single 
piece,  we  shall  put  the  two  sawed  faces  outside  (Fig.  54), 
and  the  strip  of  sheet-iron  being  interposed  at  D,  below,  we 
will  add  the  moulded  plank  C  to  mark  the  junction  and 
the   flaws,  if  there   are   any.     As  for   the   triangular   notches 


tx 


=  ) 


s_ 


j^ 


,zJ 


Fig.   52. 


Fig.   53. 


Fig.    54. 


at  E,  they  are  less  difficult  to  fashion  than  mortises,  and 
the  joists,  being  placed  in  breadth,  have  no  tenons.  It  is 
the  same  with  the  summers  which  receive  the  ends  of  the 
joists  along  the  walls,  and  replace  the  cornices.  Well, 
what  say  you  ? "  * 

"  Dame !     It 's  none  the  more  the  customary  flooring  ! " 
"  What  of  that,  if  it  gives   you  no  more  trouble   to  estab- 
lish ?     We  will   keep  account  of  the   time  you  use,  and  we 
furnish   the    wood ;    you  are    therefore    sure   of  losing   noth- 
ing.    Think  it  over,  and,  if  you  will,  we  can  make  a  bargain. 


220  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 


We  will  pay  you  by  the  cubic  metre,  as  for  ordinary  floor- 
ings, or  else  we  will  keep  account  of  the  time  employed 
in  the  workmanship,  and  will  pay  you  according  to  it. 
Choose  ! " 

Jean  Godard  for  a  long  time  turned  his  cap  over  and 
over,  looked  at  the  sheets  of  paper  spread  about,  scratched 
violently  his  right  ear,  then  his  left,  and  after  a  good  half- 
hour  declared  that  he  would  be  paid  for  these  floorings  as 
for  ordinary  ones,  by  the  cubic  metre  worked. 

"  And  you  are  right,"  said  the  cousin ;  "  for  if  you  manage 
your  work  well,  and  make  no  mistakes,  you  will  gain  more 
by  this  bargain  than  if  we  paid  you  by  time ;  for  the  reason 
that  there  is  less  workmanship  in  establishing  this  kind  of 
flooring,  of  equal  cube,  than  those  which  you  are  in  the 
habit  of  putting  down ;  above  all,  in  this  part  of  the  country." 

Jean  Godard  asked  that  extra  pay  should  be  given  him 
for  the  summers  intended  to  replace  the  rough  fastenings  in 
the  walls. 

"  Agreed,"  said  the  cousin.  "  We  economize  in  plaster 
cornices,  and  it  is  right  that  we  should  take  account  of  it  in 
your  favor." 

It  was  then  decided  that  the  summers  should  be  paid  for 
separately,  that  is,  their  notches  and  chamfers. 

On  the  morrow  four  saws  were  in  motion  cutting  up  the 
wood  in  reserve.  The  work-yard  had  resumed  all  its  activ- 
ity.    There   remained,  for   the   masonry,   a   detail   of  dormer- 


THE    CARPENTRY   WORK. 


221 


windows  to  finish,  which  was  soon  done,  and   then   the   pas- 
sage of  the  chimney-shafts. 

The    cousin,    in    giving    Paul    the    details    of    the   dormer- 
windows,  section  A  and  exterior  face  B    (Fig.  55),  called  his 


Fig.  55. 

attention  to  their  construction.  Mounted  on  a  coping  50  c. 
in  thickness,  they  would  compose  two  piers  of  three  courses 
each.  The  first  two  courses  would  preserve  a  fillet  C,  in- 
tended to  cover  over  the  slating  of  the  covering,  and  to  form 


222  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

"  solins."  The  lintel  and  two  stones  making  corbels  would 
come  on  these  two  jambs.  Two  pieces,  on  this  lintel,  would 
receive  the  little  lateral  gables,  and  would  compose  the  jambs 
of  the  upper  opening,  intended  to  admit  air  to  the  attics. 
The  crowning  would  be  made  in  two  courses,  with  flowers 
of  termination.  The  section  indicated  how  the  glacis  of  the 
coping  would  form  solins  on  the  small  roofs  of  the  dormer- 
windows  in  the  rear,  and  "snuffers"  in  front,  to  prevent  the 
rain-water  from  running  along  the  lacings. 


THE    CHIMNEYS.  22$ 


CHAPTER   XXII. 


THE    CHIMNEYS. 


HY,"  asked  Paul  of  the  cousin,  "  do  chimneys 
smoke  ? " 
Hit,  "  You  mean,"  replied  he,  "  why  do  some  chim- 
neys smoke  ?  Many  causes  contribute  to  make  chimneys 
smoke,  whilst  there  is  only  one  condition  under  which  they 
do  not  smoke.  We  must  try  to  fulfil  this  condition.  This  is 
it:  smoke-shaft  in  proportion  to  the  fireplace,  and  the  feeding 
of  the  latter  by  a  quantity  of  air  proportioned  to  the  com- 
bustion. If  the  shaft  is  too  narrow  for  the  quantity  of  smoke 
produced  by  the  combustion,  the  smoke  does  not  rise  easily 
enough,  its  upward  course  is  made  slow  by  the  friction,  and 
the  delivery  being  insufficient  for  the  production,  the  smoke 
overflows  outside  the  chimney.  The  acceleration  of  the  com- 
bustion is  followed  by  the  elevation  of  the  smoke  by  a 
current  of  exterior  air  which  strikes  the  wood  or  coal.  The 
fire,  being  well  lighted,  heats  the  column  of  air  which  fills 
the  chimney,  and  the  more  this  air  is  heated,  the  lighter  it 
is,  and  the  more  it  tends  to  rise. 

"  So  it  is  that,  in  many  badly  built  chimneys,  a  certain  time 


224  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

is  necessary  for  the  smoke  to  take  its  course ;  that  is,  it  is 
necessary  for  the  column  of  air  to  become  heated ;  and  while 
waiting  for  it  to  become  so,  the  smoke  passes,  not  up  the 
shaft,  but  into  the  room.  Then  a  window  is  opened  to  feed 
the  fireplace  with  air,  the  latter  lights  up,  warms  the  shaft, 
and  the  smoke  takes  its  course.  This  is  also  why  all  new 
chimneys  smoke.  The  shafts,  made  of  masonry,  are  damp 
and  cold,  and  the  air  they  contain  is  heavy  ;  time  is  needed 
to  lighten  and  penetrate  it  with  caloric. 

"  Instead  of  opening  a  window  to  accelerate  the  fire  (which 
is  a  tolerably  primitive  method),  a  ventilator  is  established 
for  each  fireplace ;  that  is,  a  channel  is  supplied  to  it,  by 
which  the  exterior  air  comes  in  and  strikes  the  fuel  as  soon 
as  the  least  heat  develops  itself,  like  that,  for  instance,  of  a 
piece  of  lighted  paper.  This  exterior  air  at  once  presses  in 
u>  fill  the  void  which  the  beginning  of  combustion  produces, 
and  accelerates  the  fire  by  bringing  in  oxygen.  The  more  the 
fire  increases,  the  more  rapid  is  the  current  of  air;  the  more 
rapidly  the  air  comes  in,  the  more  vigorously  the  wood  or 
coal  burns.  The  ventilator  is  to  a  chimney  what  the  bellows 
are  to  a  forge.  But  the  ventilator  must  be  none  the  less  in 
connection  with  the  fireplace,  as  well  as  the' smoke-flue.  If  the 
smoke-flue  is  too  narrow,  there  is  an  obstruction  of  the  smoke, 
and  it  overflows.  If  it  is  too  wide,  it  does  not  become  heated 
equally,  for  then  the  currents  of  exterior  air  and  the  wind 
exercise  a  pressure,   at  its  exterior   orifice,   which  neutralizes 


THE    CHIMNEYS.  225 


the  action  of  draught ;  the  smoke  is  kept  down.  If  the  ven- 
tilator is  too  narrow  for  the  extent  of  the  fireplace,  it  does 
not  bring  in  the  quantity  of  air  necessary  for  the  combustion ; 
the  fire  languishes,  it  heats  incompletely,  and  the  tepid  smoke 
does  not  ascend  quickly  enough.  If  the  ventilator  is  too 
big,  it  either  brings  in  too  large  a  volume  of  air,  the  oxygen 
of  which  is  not  completely  used,  in  which  case  a  part  of 
the  cold  air  passes  into  the  smoke-flue  and  does  not  accelerate 
the  draught ;  or  else,  if  there  are  changes  of  temperature,  the 
ventilator  draws  off  the  air  of  the  chimney,  instead  of  bringing 
in  air  from  without.  There  is  a  reversing,  and  the  chimney 
smokes  horribly." 

The  cousin  explained  this  theory  in  the  evening,  when  the 
family  were  gathered  around  the  hearth. 

"  It  seems  very  simple,"  said  Madame  de  Gandelau ;  "  but 
why,  then,  does  the  chimney  in  my  room  smoke  some  days, 
though  I  have  often  had  it  repaired  ? " 

"Because  your  room,  Madame,  is  situated  in  the  new  wing 
of  the  house,  the  roofs  of  which  are  lower  than  those  of  the 
old  building.  The  smoke-flue  could  not  be  raised  high 
enough  to  pass  above  the  ridges  of  the  old  building,  for  this 
isolated  chimney  would  not  have  resisted  the  squalls  of  wind. 
When  the  wind  comes  from  your  side,  it  finds  an  obstacle 
opposed  to  it  by  the  higher  structure,  and  rebounds ;  there 
is  an  eddy,  and,  in  whirling  round  itself,  it  is  ingulfed  in 
your    chimney,    or   at   least   forms   an    obstacle,   at   times,   to 


226  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

the  passage  of  the  smoke.  In  this  case  the  shafts  should  be 
bifurcated ;  the  pressure  of  the  wind  not  being  ever  equal  on 
the  two  orifices,  the  air,  being  ingulfed  in  one,  would  make 
the  smoke  pass  violently  out  of  the  other.  I  know  of  no 
other  method ;  I  have  already  proposed  it  to  you ;  but  you 
have  found,  not  without  reason,  that  these  shafts,  which  seem 
to  raise  two  desperate  arms  toward  the  sky,  would  be  very 
ugly,  and  you  have  resigned  yourself  to  be  smoked  out, 
when  a  sharp  squall  blows  from  the  west." 

"  The  chimney-man  has,  however,  placed  a  sheet-iron  shaft, 
with  a  turning  hat,  —  what  he  calls,  I  believe,  a  '  revolving 
chimney-top ' ;  he  said  that  this  would  do  nicely,  but  it  is 
only  worse  than  before." 

"  No  doubt ;  when  there  is  an  eddy  of  wind,  and  whirl- 
winds, in  consequence  of  an  obstacle,  as  is  the  case  here, 
this  revolving  chimney-top  is  agitated,  turns  this  way  and 
that,  and  in  its  sudden  movements  sometimes  presents  its 
mouth,  if  but  for  a  moment,  to  the  squall.  This  mouth  then 
fulfils  the  office  of  a  funnel,  and  the  air,  plunging  into  the 
shaft,  sends  back  the  smoke  in  puffs  to  the  middle  of  the 
room." 

"  That  is  so ;  you  think,  then,  that  I  miist  accept  the  two 
horrid   shafts  ? " 

"  Assuredly.  There  are  towns  in  mountain  districts  all 
the  houses  of  which,  of  no  matter  what  height,  are  subjected 
to    these    conditions.      Geneva,    for    instance,    built    between 


THE    CHIMNEYS.  227 


the  Saleve  and  the  Jura,  is  dominated,  though  at  a  great 
distance,  by  those  mountains.  The  violent  winds  which 
sometimes  blow  over  the  lake  are  ingulfed  between  the  two 
ranges,  leap  up,  and  cause  squalls  everywhere;  and  so  the 
Genevans  are  forced  to  crown  their  chimneys  with  double 
shafts,  which  from  afar  present  the  aspect  of  a  forest  of 
old-fashioned  telegraph-poles." 

"I  hope  you  will  put  chimneys  into  the  new  house  which 
will  not  smoke.  You  know  that  Marie  would  be  very  much 
annoyed  if  they  did." 

"  "We  shall  do  so  :  first,  the  local  conditions  are  good ;  we 
are  not  subject  to,  and  have  not  to  fear,  eddies  of  wind  ;  the 
breezes  are  regular  along  the  plateau  on  which  we  are  building ; 
then  we  have  only  simple,  high  coverings,  and  all  the  chim- 
ney-shafts pass  above  the  ridges.  We  will  establish  these 
shafts  with  brick,  witli  good  sections.  Nothing  obliges  us  to 
deviate  them  materially ;  they  rise  vertically,  or  nearly  so. 

"Then  we  will  establish  a  system  of  ventilators  in  the 
subsoil  for  cool  air;  for  we  must  pay  attention  to  this,  that 
when  the  ventilators,  for  instance,  are  opened  at  midday,  it 
happens  that  the  air  they  receive  from  without,  even  in 
the  winter,  is  warmer  than  that  of  the  room  where  a  lire 
is  lighted  ;  then  the  ventilator  draws  the  smoke,  which  falls 
back  into  the  room.  The  fire  can  scarcely  be  lighted;  the 
wood  blackens,  and  does  not  burn. 

"A   simile   smoke-flue  is   used  a  great   deal   now  at    Paris 


228  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

for  several  fireplaces,  placed  one  above  the  other,  and,  paral- 
lel-wise, a  ventilation-shaft,  which  carries  a  branch  to  each 
of  these  fireplaces.  This  is  especially  good  in  houses  where 
as  many  as  five  fireplaces  are  placed  one  above  another, 
for  thus  the  weakening  of  the  walls  by  reason  of  too  many 
chimneys  in  juxtaposition  is  avoided.  The  fireplaces  draw 
reciprocally,  and  this  system  withdraws  the  smoke  from  the 
rooms.  These  chimneys  must  have  a  section  proportioned  to 
all  the  fireplaces ;  that  is,  they  must  have,  for  five  ordinary 
successive  fireplaces,  a  section  of  16  superficial  centimetres, 
and  a  scpuare  of  40  c.  each  side.  But  here,  where  we  only 
have  three  stories,  I  prefer  to  have  special  chimneys  for  each 
fireplace  ;  inasmuch  as  in  the  case  of  a  single  chimney  it  is 
necessary  that  they  should  all  have  fires,  which  is  always 
the  case  in  a  large  town.  In  default  of  this,  the  smoke,  in  a 
sudden  change  of  temperature,  would  pass  into  an  upper  or 
lower  fireplace,  instead  of  following  the  vertical  column. 
This  inconvenience,  which  is  an  accidental  one  only,  is 
remedied  by  well-set  traps." 

"  But,"  said  Paul,  "  will  not  the  eold  air  of  the  ventilators 
cool  the  rooms  ?  " 

"  The  cold  air  comes  into  the  fireplace,  but  not  into  the 
room.  It  is  clear  that  if  a  fire  is  not.  made,  this  ventilator 
provides  cold  air,  which  tends  to  lower  the  temperature  of  a 
room ;  it  can  be  shut  out  by  a  trap.  But  remember  this, 
that   to   make   a  fire,  to    burn  wood,  coal,  or   what   not,   you 


THE    CHIMNEYS.  229 


must  have  oxygen ;  you  have  learned  this  in  your  study  of 
chemistry  and  physics ;  then,  you  must  have  air ;  without 
air,  no  fire.  Formerly  people  did  not  take  the  trouble  to 
establish  ventilators  for  fireplaces,  as  the  air  penetrated  to 
the  rooms  under  the  doors,  by  ill-closed  windows,  aud  also 
because  the  rooms,  being  very  large,  contained  a  cube  of 
air  considerable  enough  to  feed  the  fire  for  a  long  time. 
The  chimneys  of  our  ancestors,  let  me  add,  smoked  some- 
what. Nowadays  we  are  more  delicate;  we  want  smaller 
rooms,  well  shut  in,  and  we  shrink  from  the  currents  of  air; 
but  the  chimney  requires  air,  without  which  its  fuel  would 
not  burn,  and  warm  you.  It  is  clear  that  this  column  of 
cold  air,  which  you  call  in  to  accelerate  combustion,  carries 
off  with  it,  in  rising  in  the  smoke-flue,  not  a  little  of  the 
heat.  Several  systems  have,  therefore,  been  invented  to  pre- 
vent this  heated  air  from  passing  off  too  rapidly.  It  has 
been  turned  in  the  shafts,  and  forced  to  remain  as  long  as 
possible,  or  at  least  to  leave  a  part  of  the  heat  which  it 
has  absorbed  in  the  numerous  corridors  through  which  it 
passes.  These  corridors  in  their  turn  heat  a  cavity,  a  cham- 
ber which  opens  on  them,  and  which  is  also  fed  with  air. 
This  air,  expanded  by  the  heat,  tends  to  waste  itself.  Issues 
for  it  are  opened,  which  are  the  mouths  of  heat.  This  is 
the  principle  of  hot-air  stoves." 

"  Apropos    of    hot-air   stoves,"  said   Madame   de   Gandelau, 
"  do  you  propose  to  put  one  in  the  new  house  ? " 


230  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

"  Certainly ;  its  location  is  designated  in  the  plan  of  the 
cellars  under  the  hall;  and  its  flue  passes  in  the  interior 
angle  of  the  main  staircase.  Such  a  stove  is  indispensable 
in  a  country-house,  especially  when  it  is  not  occupied  the 
whole  winter.  It  is  the  means  of  avoiding  numerous  dete- 
riorations. It  suffices,  during  the  cold  and  wet  season,  to 
heat  the  interior,  and  so  keep  it  dry,  once  or  twice  a 
week." 

"  Don't   you  think  hot-air  stove-heat  unhealthy  ?  " 

"  The  hot  air  emitted  by  the  hot-air  stoves  is  unhealthy, 
because  in  being  heated  it  loses  a  part  of  its  oxygen,  and 
oxygen  is  as  necessary  to  life  as  it  is  to  make  fuel  burn. 
A  part  of  the  accidents  caused,  in  the  animal  economy,  by 
air  deprived  of  oxygen,  is  avoided,  by  making  it  pass,  at 
the  exit  of  the  receiver  of  the  heat,  over  basins  full  of 
water ;  but  this  means  is  only  a  palliative  one,  and  a  part 
of  the  heat  is  thus  lost.  I  only  regard  hot-air  stoves  as 
good  for  heating  places  which  are  not  constantly  used,  such 
as  halls,  staircases,  galleries  ;  but  if  registers  are  established 
in  the  drawing-rooms,  dining-rooms,  and  bedrooms,  they 
should  not  be  opened  when  those  apartments  are  occupied. 
They  must  only  be  opened  to  dry  the  interiors  when  you 
are  away ;  and  the  windows  should  afterward  be  opened, 
and  the  registers  shut  when  you  shut  the  windows.'' 

"  How  would  you  heat  the  bath-rooms  ? " 

"  By  means  of  a  boiler  placed  near  the  hot-air  stove,  with 


THE   CHIMNEYS.  23  I 


columns  of  ascent  to  the  bath-room  on  the  first  floor,  which 

are  nearly  over  the  fireplace." 

"You  have  also  planned  bath-rooms  for  the  domestics." 

"  Yes,  underneath  the  bake-house  and  wash-house,  under 
ground." 

"  I  perceive  that  you  have  foreseen  everything.  This  is  a 
conversation  about  chimneys,  Paul,  which  you  will  do  well 
to  take  good  note  of." 

"  I  shall  certainly  do  so,  mother." 


232  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 


CHAPTEE  XXIII. 


THE   CANTEEN. 


WE^Bsffi  ESPITE  recent  disasters,  life  seemed  to  be  return- 
ing  as  if  by  enchantment  to  the  cities  and  coun- 
try. Everywhere  work  was  being  resumed,  to 
make  up  for  lost  time.  If  the  uneffaceable  memory  of  the 
misfortunes  which  seemed  to  have  drained  all  the  resources 
of  France  was  still  preserved,  a  patriotic  instinct  inspired 
redoubled  efforts  to  repair  so  much  ruin,  without  giving  up 
to  vain  complaints.  Those  who  passed  through  France 
during  February  and  March,  1870,  might  have  compared 
the  country  to  one  of  those  ant-hills  which  some  awkward' 
person  has  overturned  with  his  feet.  The  ants  do  not 
waste  their  time  in  imploring  Providence;  they  set  forth- 
with  to  work,   and   if  you   go   by   the   next   day,  all  traces 

of    the    catastrophe    which    seemed    to    have    destroyed    the 

» 
colony  has   disappeared. 

But  late  in  March  the  papers  brought  news  of  the  fresh 

disasters  to  Paris.     M.  de  Gandelau  had  thought  of  sending  his 

son   back    to    the  lyceum.     Although   Taul  was  by  no  means 

wasting   his   time,  it   seemed  a  pity  to    interrupt   any  longer 


THE   CANTEEN.  233 


his  classical  studies.  The  latest  news  did  not,  however, 
permit  M.  tie  Gandelau  to  hesitate.  Paul  continued  to  work 
with  his  cousin,  who,  for  his  part,  decided  to  remain  at  the 
chateau  awaiting  events. 

M.  de  Gandelau,  loved  and  respected  by  all  the  vicinity, 
had  no  anxieties  on  his  own  account.  Some  ill-looking 
fellows  had  made  their  appearance  in  the  neighboring  villages, 
but  they  found  nothing  to  occupy  them,  and  soon  disap- 
peared. Papa  Branchu  and  Jean  Godard  had  come  to  the 
chateau  to  tell  M.  de  Gandelau  that  the  workmen  begged 
of  him  not  to  suspend  the  works,  and  that  they  were  ready, 
if  money  were  wanting,  to  await  more  prosperous  days  for 
their  pay.  They  only  asked,  for  the  time  being,  soup  and  bread. 
M.  de  Gandelau,  having  made  great  sacrifices  during  the  war, 
could  not  now  avail  himself  of  sums  sufficient  to  pay  the 
regular  wages  demanded  by  the  activity  employed  on  the 
works ;  and  it  was  decided  to  establish  a  "  canteen  "  near  the 
work-yard,  where  M.  de  Gandelau  should  furnish  flour,  wood, 
meat  twice  a  week,  vegetables,  and  lard,  and  each  workman 
should  receive  as  many  portions  as  himself  and  family  needed 
for  sustenance.  Each  portion  was  valued  at  a  fixed  price,  and 
the  rest  was  to  be  paid  in  money  later  on,  according  to  the 
definitely  established  rolls.  Half  a  dozen  workmen,  strangers 
to  the  district,  did  not  accept  this  arrangement,  and  quitted 
the  work-yard.  The  others,  having  full  confidence  in  M.  de 
Gandelau's    loyalty,    subscribed     to    the     bargain,    the    more 


234  THE  STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

readily  as  they  foresaw  the  results  of  a  forced  economy  in 
a  saving.  Paul  was  intrusted  with  this  new  detail,  and  to 
his  functions  as  inspector  were  added  those  of  a  purveyor. 
His  cousin  showed  him  how  to  keep  the  accounts,  so  that 
all   interests  should  be  protected. 

Proud  of  this  new  trust,  he  acquitted  himself  of  it  well. 
He  rose  at  five  in  the  morning,  mounted  his  pony,  and 
hastened  from  the  chateau  to  the  mill,  from  the  mill  to  the 
village,  and  from  the  village  to  the  work-yard ;  every  even- 
ing he  rendered  to  his  father  an  account  of  the  deliveries 
of  the  day,  and  to  his  cousin  the  calculations  made  on  the 
ground. 

This  existence  strengthened  his  body;  the  responsibility 
with  which  he  was  charged  matured  his  mind.  Towards 
the  end  of  May  the  young  collegian,  who  had  had  nothing 
to  do  in  August,  would  hardly  have  been  recognized  in  the 
robust,  serious,  attentive  youth  he  had  become. 

One  morning  the  cousin  said  to  him, — 

"  You  must  go  to  Chateauroux,  as  we  have  no  joiners 
here  able  to  execute  our  works.  I  will  give  you  a  note  to 
a  good  master-joiner  living  there,  and  you  will  come  to  an 
understanding  with  him.  But  first  we  must  get  our  details 
ready." 


JOINERY.  235 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 


JOINERY. 


VERY  detail  of  the  joinery,"  said  the  cousin, 
"  should  be  given  before  beginning  the  construc- 
tion of  a  house ;  for  the  first  condition  of  join- 
ery work  is  to  choose  the  woods,  and  to  only  use  those 
which  are  thoroughly  dry,  and  have  been  cut  several  years. 
We  have  been  short  for  time,  and  have  not  been  able  to 
attend  to  this  important  part  of  our  construction.  Fortu- 
nately I  know  a  joiner  at  Chateauroux,  who  has  wrood  in 
stock,  of  which  he  is  avaricious,  and  only  uses  sparingly ; 
I  will  persuade  him  to  furnish  us  with  some.  Your  father 
has  done  him  some  favors ;  and  I  presume  he  will  make  no 
difficulty  in  letting  us  have  some  of  the  dry  and  good  woods 
which  he  has  reserved  for  special  occasions. 

"  But  if  it  is  indispensable,  in  joinery  work,  to  use  only  dry 
woods,  without  defects,  it  is  equally  so  to  combine  this  sort 
of  work  in  accordance  with  the  nature  of  the  materials, 
and  not  neglect  the  conditions  they  impose.  "Wood  is  cut 
according  to  certain  customary  dimensions,  and  to  the  size  of 
the  tree.     Thus,  fur   instance,  a   plank   is  only  from    20  c.  to 


236  THE   STORY   OF  A    HOUSE. 

25  c.  in  width,  because  trees  proper  for  joinery  have  scarcely 
more  diameter  than  this,  deducting  the  sap-wood ;  then,  if 
panels  are  made,  it  is  prudent  to  give  them  only  a  width 
of  20  to  25c,  that  they  may  be  taken  in  a  plank.  If  two 
or  three  planks  are  brought  together  to  make  a  panel,  they 
will  separate  after  getting  dry,  and  will  leave  cracks  between 
them  ;  while  in  giving  to  each  panel  the  width  only  of  a 
single  plank,  if  the  latter  makes  a  shrinkage,  this  shrinkage 
will  be  produced  in  the  tongue,  and  there  will  be  no  separa- 
tion. These  tongues,  however,  must  be  large  enough  to  bear 
a  shrinkage  without  passing  beyond  the  rebate.  You  will 
understand   this    better   presently. 

"  In  the  last  century  many  doors  were  made  with  large 
frames,  that  is,  with  the  panels,  framed  by  mouldings,  hav- 
ing a  width  of  40  to  50  c.  ;  that  was  the  fashion.  But  at 
that  time  only  very  dry  woods,  cut  for  many  years,  were 
used;  and  the  panels,  made  of  two  planks  brought  together, 
or  simply  joined,  did  not  suffer  shrinkage.  You  can  see 
doors  so  made  in  your  father's  drawing-room,  and  there  is 
not  one  on  which  the  panel  is  open.  Now,  such  wood  can- 
not be  had  for  money  ;  we  must,  therefore,  do  the  best  we 
can,  and  give  up  large  panels.  Or,  if  they  must  be  had, 
they  must  be  taken  in  white-wood,  a  •  sort  of  poplar,  be- 
cause this  wood  dries  quickly,  and  does  not  bend  across 
the  fibre.  But  this  is  a  tender  wood,  easily  eaten  by  worms, 
especially    in    the     country.      Let    us,,  then,    stick    to     oak, 


JOINERY. 


237 


and  so  combine  our  doors  that  the  panels  shall  only  have 
a  width  of  about  20  c.  There  are  doors  of  one  leaf  and 
doors  of  two  leaves.  The  latter  are  1  m.  20  c.  in  width ;  the 
former,  80  c.  to  1  m.  Their  height  varies  from  2  m.  10  c. 
to  2  m.  20  c. ;  it  is  useless  to  give  them  more,  for  we  do 
not  walk  into  rooms  with  crosses  and  banners,  and  the  hu- 
man form  seldom  exceeds  1  m.  80  c.  Too  high  doors  have 
many  inconveniences.  They  are  liable  to  warp,  they  are 
difficult  to  shut,  and,  if  it  is  cold,  every  time  they  are 
opened  they  admit  a  large  cube  of  moist  and  freezing  air, 
which   cools  the  occupied  rooms. 

"  Let  us  begin  by  tracing  a  door  with  two  leaves.     We  will 
make   the   frames    and   cross-pieces    of  A 

wood  4  c.  thick.  'Stocks'  are  the  fram- 
ing-pieces; rabbets  or  leaves,  the  pieces 
A  (Fig.  50);  the  cross-pieces,  the  hori- 
zontal intermediate  pieces ;  each  post 
will  be  lie.  wide,  the  small  interme- 
diate posts,  5  c.  Each  folding  leaf,  de- 
ducting 15  m.  for  the  middle  rebate, 
will  therefore  be  0.505  m.,  as  the  door 
will  have  a  width  of  1  in.  20  c.  ;  de- 
ducting 0.11 +  0.05  + 0.005  m.  for  the 
three  posts  (total  0.255),  there  remains 
for  the  two  panels  34  c,  and  for  each  of  them  17  c.  The 
cross-piece    must   be   placed   so    that    its   axis   shall   be    1  m. 


E 


1  j 


i 


/!■ 


Fio.  50. 


■■> 


238  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

above  the  floor;  for  the  lock  is  placed  on  this  cross-piece, 
and  it  is  necessary  to  give  the  cross-piece  15  c.  in  width,  so 
that,  deduction  being  made  of  the  mouldings,  there  still  re- 
mains 10  c.  for  the  lock,  the  box  of  which  is  usually  8  to  10  c. 
in  width.  This  sort  of  doors  is  called  '  with  glass  panels  ' ;  all 
the  parts  being  made  in  square,  without  joints,  and  the  panels 
being  narrow,  the  doors  do  not  get  loose,  and  maintain  them- 
selves perfectly. 

"  Let  us  consider  the  door  in  its  details  (Fig.  57).  Let  A 
be  the  jamb,  in  masonry,  of  the  opening ;  a  sleeper  B  is  fast- 
ened to  this  jamb.  On  this  is  fixed,  with  screws,  the  hinge- 
plate  C,  on  which  the  leaves  turn;  D  is  the  'stock';  E  E  the 
folds  ;  F  the  intermediate  post ;  G  the  panels  with  their 
spliced  tongues.  The  door-cases  H  form  rebate  around  the 
stock.  The  mouldings  i"  are  carried  along  the  rebate  of  the 
folds,  intended  to  give  this  rebate  more  resistance,  and  present 
a  rounding  which  will  not  grate  on  the  hands  or  fray  the 
clothing.  At  K,  you  see  the  high  cross-piece,  with  its  tenon  L, 
entering  a  mortise  at  M,  which  will  cross  the  fold.  On  the 
right  of  the  junction  of  the  intermediate  post  N,  the  mould- 
ing 0  is  cut  square  to  permit  the  head  of  this  post  to  pass,  its 
tenon  P  entering  a  mortise  at  R.  At  S,  you  see  the  rebates 
in  which  the  panel  tongues  T  are  spliced,  the  panels  being 
reinforced  at  a  certain  distance  by  these  tongues  as  you  see 
at  V,  so  that  their  thickness  shall  be  0.022  m.  You  will 
observe   that   the   chamfers    of  the   posts   X  stop   below  the 


JOINERY. 


239 


junctions  to  leave  to  the  wood  all  its  force  on  the  right 
of  the  junctions.  For  doors  of  this  size,  we  must  have  three 
hinge-plates  to  each  leaf. 


A 
i 


c 

fir 


2^-5 


H 


13 


V 


2T 


.0.11 j 


K-^^-H 


I 

& 

I 

St 

1 

J 


k..~  *,//.?... 


F10.  57. 


"This  gives  you  the  key  to  the  whole  joining  of  the  ordinary 
and  well-made  door.  The  rule  is  simple  ;  never  weaken  the 
wood  on  the  right  of  the  junctions,  always  make  these  in  square, 
and  do  not  exceed  the  dimensions  given  by  the  cut  wood. 

"  Our  single-leafed  doors  shall  be  established  after  this  sys- 
tem.    It    remains    to  consider   the   window    casements.     We 


240 


THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 


will  follow  the  same  principle,  avoiding  defective  joinings, 
and  making  them  all  in  square.  Here  is  one  of  these  case- 
ments (Fig.  58),  composed  of  a 
sleeper  A  fixed  in  the  rebate  of 
masonry  B,  and  of  a  frame  with  two 
leaves.  The  thickness  of  the  wood 
of  this  frame  shall  be  .04  c,  and 
the  posts  of  the  leaves  shall  be 
united  with  round  rebate  and 
groove.  To  avoid  putting  in  glass 
of  too  large  a  size,  or  the  necessity 
of  putting  in  glass,  we  will  divide 
the  leaves  by  a  small  piece  C. 
The  details  of  these  casement- 
frames  must  be  explained ;  they 
are  represented  by  Fig.  59. 

"At  A  I  have  marked  the  rebate 
of  the  plane  of  the  window ;  at  B, 
the  sleejDer ;  at  C,  one  of  the  posts, 
which  enters  the  sleeper  by  a  tongue,  to  arrest  the  passage  of 
the  air ;  at  D,  the  post  of  the  rabbet  ledge,  with  its  round  re- 
bate and  groove,  and  the  rabbet  E  on  the  'left.  The  fastening 
is  placed  on  the  strengthening-piece  F.  The  profile  of  the 
cross-piece  of  the  sleeper  is  shown  at  G,  and  at  If,  of  the  lower 
cross-piece  of  the    casement-frames,   with    its   weather-rail   to 


*Ji 


Fig.  53. 


prevent  the  rain  or  snow  from  penetrating  the  interior. 


JOINERY. 


241 


"  But  as  it  happens  that,  despite  these  precautions,  the  rain, 
when  violently  dashed  by  the  wind,  reaches  the  rebate  and 
the  interior,  a  little  canal  a  must  be  fixed  in  the  rebate,  so 
that   the   rain   may  not  spread   over  the  internal  side  of  the 


pi 


Fig.  59. 

wall  I.  In  order  to  mask  the  junction  of  the  supporting 
wood  cross-piece  with  the  stone  support,  we  will  put  the  cyma 
K.  At  L  you  see  the  combination  of  the  lower  cross-piece  with" 
the    post,    and  at  M  that  of  the  small   wood-piece  with    the 


242  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

same  post.  You  will  remark  the  external  rebates  at  0,  for 
receiving  the  glass,  and  the  chamfers  P,  with  rests  on  the 
interior  to  leave  the  combinations  with  all  their  force.  Besides 
the  three  hinge-plates  necessary  to  each  leaf,  you  must  count 
squares  notched  above  and  below,  to  prevent  the  frames  from 
tiring  out  the  combinations,  and  from  weighing  on  the  middle 
of  the  casement ;  for  the  glass  cannot  fulfil  the  office  of 
door- panels,  which  stiffen  the  framework.  On  the  contrary, 
the  glass,  by  its  weight,  tends  to  deform  the  frames. 

"  Now,  Paul,  you  will  put  down  these  details,  and  I  will 
correct  your  tracings  ;  then,  armed  with  these  drawings,  you 
will  go  to  Chateauroux,  and  will  submit  them  to  the  master- 
joiner,  who  will  give  you  his  prices  for  them.  You  will  ex- 
plain the  drawings  to  him,  keeping  in  mind  all  I  have  told 
you,  and  you  will  bring  back  his  terms.  I  will,  besides,  give 
you  an  introduction  to  an  engineer  at  Chateauroux,  a  friend 
of  mine,  who  will  receive  you  like  an  old  friend,  and  can 
complete  the  information  of  which  you  are  still  in  need." 

Madame  de  Gandelau  consented  to  Paul's  journey  with 
hesitation ;  but  being  assured  that  the  cousin's  friend  should 
be  apprised  of  it,  and  would  meet  Paul  at  the  station,  and  that 
he  would  sojourn  with  a  family  happy  to  welcome  him,  she 
gave  her  consent. 

Paul  would  only  remain  three  or  four  days  at  Chateauroux, 
which  was  but  twenty-four  kilometres  away. 


WHAT  PAUL  LEARNED  AT   CHATEAUROUX         243 


CHAPTER    XXV. 

WHAT  PAUL  LEARNED  AT  CHATEAUROUX. 

j§if  AUL  already  knew  enough  to   have   some  timidity 
pi 
S^f-S|    at  being  intrusted  with  a  task  which  he  saw  to  be 

>*A*:  '  a  important,  It  would  have  been  easy  to  write  to 
the  master-joiner  to  come  to  the  chateau,  but  the  cousin  had 
asked  M.  de  Gandelau  to  send  Paul  to  him,  in  order  to  put 
his  inspector  to  the  proof,  and  see  how  he  would  manage  the 
affair.  The  cousin  gave  him  ample  instructions,  and  re- 
peated them  several  times ;  and  Paul  took  notes  of  the  im- 
portant points.  He  was  supplied  with  plans  giving  the 
number  of  openings,  the  handles  of  the  doors,  the  surfaces 
of  the  floors,  the  panellings,  the  cymas,  and  so  on. 

He  reached  Chateauroux  about  ten  in  the  morning,  and 
found  M.  Victorien,  the  engineer,  who  was  his  cousin's  friend, 
awaiting  him  at  the   station. 

M.  Victorien  was  still  a  young  man,  though  his  closely  cut 
hair  was  grizzled.  A  swarthy  complexion,  clear  eye,  and 
aquiline  nose  gave  a  certain  military  air  to  his  countenance, 
which  at  once  attracted  our  embryo  architect.  The  cousin's 
letter  had  apprised  him  of  the  circumstances    of  the   house- 


244  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

building,  and  of  Paul's  visit.  He  knew  M.  de  Gandelau 
slightly,  and  professed  a  high  esteem  for  his  character.  He 
therefore  received  the  youthful  traveller  as  a  younger  brother. 
Madame  Victorien,  a  little  round  and  brown  woman,  who 
seemed  to  be  her  husband's  antithesis,  he  being  tall  and  dry, 
could  not  do  too  much  for  her  guest.  "When  they  were  at 
breakfast,  Paul  had  to  answer  many  questions  ;  how  his  family 
had  felt  during  the  late  events,  what  the  new  house  was,  how  it 
was  going  forward,  how  many  workmen  were  employed,  how 
the  works  were  managed.  Paul  answered  as  best  he  could, 
and  even  ventured  to  make  some  sketches,  in  order  to  explain 
to  his  hosts  the  situation  of  the  new  house  and  the  present 
stage  of  its  progress. 

"  Why,"  said  M.  Victorien,  "  I  see  that  you  have  profited  by 
your  cousin's  lessons ;  he  is  the  most  skilful  designer  in  explan- 
atory sketches  I  know." 

This  compliment  encouraged  Paul,  who  related  how  his 
education  as  an  architect  had  proceeded. 

""We  have  all  to-morrow  in  which  to  go  to  the  joiner;  if 
you  will,  you  shall  go  with  me  to  the  sluice-works  in  which  I 
am  engaged,  about  two  leagues  from  here.  That  will  perhaps 
interest  you." 

Paul  eagerly  accepted  this  invitation,  though  Madame  Vic- 
torien protested  that  her  youthful  guest  might  be  fatigued, 
and  that  he  ought  to  have  time  for  rest. 

"  Come,  come,"  said  M.  Victorien,  "  tired  —  at  his  age,  with 


WHAT  PAUL   LEARNED  AT  CHATEAUROUX.         245 

his  bearing,  and  having  rested  for  two  hours  seated  in  a 
wagon  ?  Get  us  a  good  dinner  against  our  return  at  seven 
o'clock,  and  you  will  see  if  our  friend  does  not  do  justice  to 
it !  Did  he  not  say,  too,  that  he  was  on  his  feet  five  hours 
every  morning,  and  was  running  about  all  day  ?  Come,  let 's 
be  off!" 

A  small  wagon  soon  carried  the  two  companions  far  from 
the  town. 

"  So,"  said  M.  Victorien,  when  they  reached  the  first  hill, 
"  your  cousin  has  not  been  wearied  by  his  short  campaign  ? 
I  saw  him  but  a  moment  when  he  passed  through  here  with 
his  troops.  What  an  energetic  man  he  is  !  But  he  does  not 
always  take  care  of  himself.  How  clearly  he  explains  every- 
thing ;  does  he  not  ?  We  have  been  chums,  and  he  hesitated 
for  some  time  whether  to  become  an  architect  or  a  civil 
engineer.     He  was  capable  of  being  either." 

"  What  is  the  difference  between  an  architect  and  an  engi- 
neer ?  " 

"  The  deuce  !  You  ask  me  a  question  difficult  to  answer.  Let 
me  give  you  an  apologue.  Once  upon  a  time  there  was  a  pair 
of  little  twins,  who  were  so  much  alike  that  their  mother 
could  not  tell  them  apart.  They  had  not  only  the  same 
features,  height,  walk,  but  also  the  same  tastes  and  habits. 
It  was  necessary  for  them  to  work,  for  their  parents  were 
poor.  Both  became  masons.  They  grew  skilful,  and  what 
they  did  was  done  equally  well  by  both.     The   father,    who 


246  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

was  narrow-minded,  thought  that  these  four  hands,  which 
labored  at  the  same  work  with  equal  skill,  would  produce  more 
and  better  if  the  work  were  divided  into  two  pairs  of  hands. 
He  said,  then,  to  one  of  them,  '  You  will  only  work  under- 
ground '  ;  and  to  the  other,  '  You  will  only  work  above  ground.' 
The  brothers  thought  there  was  little  sense  in  this,  as  they 
helped  each  other  in  the  one  case  as  well  as  in  the  other; 
but,  being  submissive  sons,  they  obeyed.  Still,  these  workmen, 
who,  up  to  this  time,  had  agreed,  and  made  mutual  efforts  in 
perfecting  their  work,  did  not  cease  from  cpuarrelling  from  that 
time.  He  who  worked  above  the  cellars  complained  that  the 
foundations  were  not  properly  cemented,  and  he  who  estab- 
lished the  foundations  said  that  account  was  not  taken  of  the 
conditions  of  their  structure.  They  finally  separated,  and  each, 
having  become  accustomed  to  the  specialty  which  had  been 
imposed  upon  him,  remained  unfit  for  anything  else." 
"I  think  I  understand  your  npologue;  but  — " 
"  But  it  does  not  explain  to  you  why  a  distinction  is 
made  between  an  architect  and  an  engineer.  In  fact,  a  good 
engineer  can  be  a  o;ood  architect,  and  vice  versa.  En- 
gineers  make  bridges,  canals,  port  works,  and  so  on ;  but 
this  does  not  prevent  their  building  lighthouses,  shops,  fac- 
tories, and  other  constructions.  Architects  should  know  how 
to  do  all  these  things ;  they  formerly  did  so,  because  then 
the  twin  brothers  were  not  separated,  or  rather  they  were 
one   and   the    same  person.     But  since  this  single  individual- 


WHAT  PAUL  LEARNED  AT   CHATEAUROUX.        247 

ity  has  been  divided,  the  two  halves  go  each  his  way.  If 
the  engineers  build  a  bridge,  the  architects  say  that  it  is 
very  ugly,  and  they  are  not  always  wrong.  If  the  archi- 
tects raise  a  palace,  the  engineers  exclaim,  not  without  reason, 
that  the  materials  have  been  unskilfully  employed,  without 
economy,  or  an  exact  knowledge  of  their  durable  and  resist- 
ing properties." 

"  But  why  do  engineers  build  bridges  which  the  architects 
think  ugly  ?  " 

"  Because  the  question  of  art  has  been  separated  from  that 
of  science  and  calculation  by  this  narrow-minded  father,  who 
thought  that  both  could  not  be  held  in  the  same  brain. 
The  architects  have  been  told,  '  You  shall  be  artists :  see 
nothing  but  form,  and  busy  yourselves  only  with  that.'  The 
engineers  have  been  told,  '  You  will  only  occupy  yourselves 
with  science ;  you  have  nothing  to  do  with  form :  leave 
that  to  the  artists  who  dream  with  their  eyes,  and  are  not 
capable  of  reasoning.'  This  seems  strange,  I  see,  to  your 
youthful  mind.  It  is  all  simply  absurd,  because  the  art  of 
architecture  is  only  the  consequence  of  the  art  of  construc- 
tion ;  that  is,  of  employing  materials  according  to  their 
qualities  or  properties,  and  because  the  forms  of  architecture 
are  notoriously  derived  from  this.  But,  my  young  friend, 
as  you  grow  older  you  will  see  many  other  things  in  our 
poor  country,  hampered  as  it  is  by  routine.  Psst  !  Get  up, 
Coco  !     The  rest  of  the  way  is  level." 


248  THE   STORY  OF  A  HOUSE. 

They  soon  reached  the  sluice-works.  Two  coffer-dams,  one 
downwards  and  the  other  upwards,  barred  the  watercourse ; 
a  large  water-spout  carried  the  current  over  the  workmen 
employed  in  founding  the  walls,  making  a  sluice-chamber. 
Paul  was  informed  of  the  function  of  the  water-spout,  which 
he  soon  understood,  since  he  had  made  them  with  tubes  of 
feathers  and  wax,  and  had  thus  emptied  glasses  of  water. 
He  had  never  supposed  that  this  little  hydraulic  apparatus 
could  have  so  important  a  use.  He  saw  how  the  cement, 
which  was  run  under  the  lateral  walls  of  the  chamber,  was 
made.  A  horse  was  pulling  on  a  large  wooden  lever  which 
moved  an  iron  tree,  pivoting  in  a  vertical  cylinder,  and 
which,  provided  with  paddle-boards,  mixed  up  the  clay 
slaked  with  sand  that  Mas  introduced  at  the  top  of  the  cyl- 
inder. A  sluice  below  let  out  the  mortar,  well  puddled,  into 
wheelbarrows,  which  the  workmen  carried  to  a  plank  plat- 
form, where  it  was  mixed  with  a  double  quantity  of  pebbles, 
by  means  of  rakes.  Then  other  workmen  carried  the  well- 
mixed  cement  to  a  hopper,  which  conducted  it  to  the  bottom 
of  the  excavation,  where  still  other  workmen  spread  it  in 
layers,  and  pounded  it  down  by  aid  of  wooden  rams.  The 
disposition  of  the  doors,  the  arch,  the  threshold  on  which  the 
leaves  were  to  rest,  lined  by  the  sluice,  that  is,  presenting 
an  obtuse  angle  towards  the  upper  part  to  resist  the  action 
of  the  current,  were  also  explained  to  Paul.  While  super- 
vising   his   works    and    giving   his   orders,    M.    Victorien   ex- 


WHAT  PAUL   LEARNED  AT   CHATEAUROUX.         249 


plained  to  Paul  the  function  of  each  portion  of  the  work, 
and  the  latter  took  notes  and  made  sketches  in  his  memo- 
randum-book, so  as  to  remember  what  he  saw  and  heard. 
This  attention  on  Paul's  part  seemed  to  please  M.  Victo- 
ries very  much ;  and  when  they  got  into  the  wagon  to  return 
to  town,  the  engineer  did  not  fail  to  complete  his  explana- 
tions. He  described  the  sluice-gates  of  seaports,  how  they 
were  made  thirty  metres  and  more  in  the  openings,  partly 
of  wood  and  partly  of  iron,  or  entirely  of  iron,  and  prom- 
ised to  show  him,  when  they  reached  the  house,  sketches  of 
some  of  these  sluices.  Then  they  talked  about  bridges,  and 
how  their  piers  were  founded  in  the  midst  of  a  current. 

M.  Victorien  explained  how,  by  means  furnished  by  mod- 
ern industry,  piers  were  established  in  wide,  deep,  rapid 
rivers,  where  this  operation  had  not  formerly  seemed  practi- 
cable ;  how  tubes  of  double  sheet-iron  were  sunk  vertically, 
so  that  their  lower  extremity  touched  the  bottom ;  how, 
by  the  aid  of  powerful  machinery,  they  compressed  the  air 
in  these  enormous  hollow  columns  so  as  to  drive  the  water 
out ;  and  how  they  then  established  masonry,  filling  these 
cylinders,  so  that  perfectly  solid,  stable  piers,  able  to  resist 
heavy  weights,  were  obtained ;  and  that  as  the  sheet-iron 
would  be  destroyed  in  time,  the  columns  of  masonry  would 
remain  intact,  having  had  time  to  assume  a  perfect  consist- 
ency. 

These  explanations  opened  to  Paul  a  new  horizon  of  study, 


250  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

and  he  asked  himself  if  he  should  ever  find  time  to  learn 
all  these  things ;  for  M.  Victorien  kept  repeating  to  him 
that  an  architect  ought  not  to  be  ignorant  of  these  means 
of  construction,  because  it  might  happen  that  he  would  have 
to  use  them.  Paul  became  absorbed  in  thought.  M.  Victorien 
perceived  it,  and  said,  — 

"  Let  us  talk  of  something  else ;  you  seem  to  be  a  little 
tired." 

"  Not  in  the  least,"  returned  Paul.  "  But  I  have  found 
it  difficult  to  retain  in  my  mind  all  that  my  cousin  has 
told  me,  when  the  subject  was  the  building  of  a  house  ; 
ami  I  thought  that  when  I  understood  the  various  things 
which  he  explained  to  me,  I  should  have  a  summary  of  all 
that  I  had  to  learn.  Now  I  see  that  there  are  many 
things  relating  to  constructions  which  it  is  necessary  to 
learn  —  and  —  I  declare  —  " 

"And  that  disturbs  and  frightens  you.  Take  time.  Don't 
try  to  learn  everything  at  once ;  listen  attentively,  —  that  'a 
all.  Little  by  little  all  this  will  disentangle  and  classify 
itself  in  your  mind.  Piest  easy ;  young  brains  are  full  of 
empty  drawers.  All  that  we  should  ask  of  the  young  is  to 
open  them  ;  each  knowledge  classifies  itself  in  that  to  which 
it  belongs.  Later  on,  you  have  only  the  trouble  of  opening 
the  drawer  which  contains  this  or  that  thing,  stored  away 
almost  unconsciously ;  it  is  found  intact,  ready  to  be  put  to 
its  proper  use.     Only  you  must  always  keep  all  the  drawers 


WHAT  PAUL  LEARNED  AT  CHATEAUROUX.         251 

open  during  the  gathering-  of  the  crop,  the  time  of  which  is 
brief.  If  you  leave  them  shut  during  early  youth,  from 
twelve  to  twenty -five,  it  is  afterwards  a  hard  task  to  fill 
them,  for  the  locks  are  rusted ;  or  they  are  filled,  you  know 
not  how,  with  trash  for  which  there  is  no  use." 

The  companions  had  now  reached  home,  where  Madame 
Victorien  had  prepared  a  good  supper,  cheered  by  the  pres- 
ence of  two  boys  just  from  school,  who  were  soon  on  the 
best  possible  terms  with  Paul. 

The  next  day  was  devoted  to  the  master-joiner,  to  whom 
were  explained  the  details  brought  by  Paul,  and  with  whom 
the  bargain  was  discussed,  in  which  Paul  was  assisted  by 
M.  Victorien.  Paul  had  been  well  trained  by  his  cousin, 
and  fulfilled  his  mission  with  great  success;  and  was  much 
flattered  when,  after  the  conference  was  over,  M.  Victorien 
began  to  call  him  "  Monsieur  the  inspector,"  and  gave  him 
all  sorts  of  technical  explanations,  which  Paul  failed  to  com- 
prehend, reserving  it  to  his  cousin  to  give  him  the  needed 
enlightenment. 

Some  curious  buildings  in  the  environs  were  visited  the 
next  morning,  and  at  nine  in  the  evening  Paul  returned  to 
the  chateau,  his  valise  full  of  notes  of  what  M.  Victorien  had 
told  him  about  bridges,  sluices,  the  materials  of  the  country, 
and  the  way  in  which  they  were  used. 


252  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 


CHAPTER    XXVI 


THE   ROOFING   AND   PLUMBING. 


MlftfrLTHOUGH  Paid  might  have  returned  to  school  at 

a      II  ■  V  -    _  a  •  O 

Paris  in  June,  Madame  de  Gandelau,  being  fearful 
of  typhus  fever,  insisted  that  her  son  should  remain 
at  home.  The  tranquillity  of  the  capital  was  not  yet  assured. 
A  teacher  in  the  neighborhood,  a  man  of  more  learning  than 
public-school  teachers  usually  are,  came  every  day  to  instruct 
Paul  for  an  hour  or  two,  that  he  might  not  forget  his  Latin  ; 
and  the  rest  of  the  time  was  devoted  to  the  supervision  of  the 
works,  which  were  now  visibly  progressing.  The  walls  were 
raised,  the  floorings  set,  and  the  carpentry  of  the  roofing  was 
being  erected  ;  and  though  there  were  no  more  details  to  be 
supplied  to  the  workmen,  the  supervision  had  to  be  the  more 
minute,  as  the  cousin  permitted  nothing  to  be  lost  sight  of, 
and  required  that  an  account  of  everything  should  be  sub- 
mitted to  him.  Sometimes,  when  Paul  returned  from  the 
work-yard,  the  cousin  asked  him  if  he  had  seen  this  or  that 
part ;    and  if  Paul  hesitated,  said,  — 

"  Well,  my  friend,  you  must  go  back  and  see  it,  and  give 
me  an  account  of  it ;  not  to-morrow,  but  at  once."  Paul 
thereupon  mounted  his  pony  and  returned. 


THE  ROOFING  AND  PLUMBING.  253 

He  thus  acquired  the  habit,  in  order  to  avoid  these  mo- 
notonous goings  and  coinings,  to  return  only  after  he  had 
examined  every  point  which  could  provoke  a  question  from  his 
cousin,  in  detail.  The  latter  had  called  Paul's  special  atten- 
tion to  the  grapplings.  He  asked  him  several  times  how  the 
cramps  were  placed ;  and  if  the  explanations  were  not  satis- 
factory, he  had  to  return  to  the  work-yard,  and  could  not  leave 
it  until  they  were  placed  in  presence  of  the  inspector,  as  had 
been  enjoined  upon  him.  The  visits  with  Paul  to  the  work- 
yard  occurred  three  times  a  week,  and  instructions  were  given 
before  him,  on  the  spot,  to  the  contractors.  The  cousin  was 
always  careful  to  make  Paul  repeat  these  instructions,  to  be 
sure  that  they  were  understood. 

It  was  time  to  consider  the  gutters,  the  draining  of  the 
rain-water,  and  the  roofings. 

"The  roofings,"  said  the  cousin,  "are  generally  ill  done  in 
country-houses,  especially  the  plumbing  work,  and  we  .shall 
have  to  be  very  careful  in  this  important  part  of  our  building  ; 
for  a  house  badly  roofed  is  a  man  incompletely  or  badly 
attired.  Both  acquire  incurable  diseases.  Here  we  have  no 
good  plumbers,  and  some  must  be  got  from  Paris,  which  will 
cost  dear;  but  in  the  end  this  is  economical,  since  we  shall 
avoid  incessant  repairs  and  irreparable  bad  work.  We  will 
adopt  a  covering  of  clasped  slating. 

"  Usually  slating  is  fastened  with  nails  on  a  scantling  of 
spruce,  or  white-wood ;  but  in  order  to  fasten  the  nails  in  the 


254  THE  STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 


scantling  the  slating  must  be  pierced  by  two  holes,  since  each 
is  held  by  two  nails.     The  slating  shakes  by  the  blowing  of  the 
wind,   the  holes  become  enlarged,  and  finally  escape  from  the 
nail-heads ;   and  then   the   slating   falls.     You    must   take   up 
several    slates   in   order   to   replace    one,    and    the   last   must 
necessarily  be  pierced  with  nails    on   the  visible  part  of  the 
slate.     With  clasps,   this   inconvenience   is   avoided,   and   the 
repairs  can  be  made  by  anybody.     These  clasps  are  made  of  red 
copper,  which  enables  you  to  open  and  shut  them  more  than 
five-and-twenty    times    without   breaking   them.     Besides,   the 
slating,  being  held  on  its  lower  part,  does  not  shake  by  the 
action  of  the  wind,  and  no  effort  can  disturb  it.     In  the  ordi- 
nary system  of  slate  covering  there  are  three  thicknesses   of 
these  plates,  one  upon  the  other.     The  uncovered  part  being 
11  c,  the  slates  are  33  c.  long.     To  place  clasped  slating,  laths 
are  nailed  on  the  rafters  in  the  place  of  scantling,  spaced  one 
from  another  lie  from  axis  to  axis  (Fig.  60).     You  see  at  A 
the  position  of  the  laths  and  of  each  slate.     The  clasps  pass  in 
the  interval  left  between  the  slates,  and  seize  the  extremities  of 
each.      I   show  you  in   a  section,  at  B,  half  of  the  execution, 
the  laths   C  nailed  to  the  rafters,  and  the  clasp,  the  point  of 
which  is  fastened  in  the  lath,  with  its  return  E  holding  the 
uncovered  part  of  the  slating.     This  will  do  for  the  breadth, 
but  not  for  the  returns,  arris,  and  gutter-leads.     When   there 
are  arris  and  gutter-leads,  the  slatings  not  being  flexible,  lead 
or  zinc  must  be  used;  the  first  of  these  metals  is  much  the 


THE  ROOFING  AND  PLUMBING. 


^55 


best  on  wood,  as  being  less  subject  to  break  or  change.  As 
for  the  arris,  they  are  fastened  by  plates  of  lead  folded  on  the 
wood,  replacing  the  slating  and  overlappings  by  the  lath ; 
as  for  the  gutter-leads,  a  plate  of  lead  is  extended  in  the 
entering  angle,  on  which,  on  the  two  sides,  the  slating  is 
brought.  But  you  will  study  the  many  details  of  the  roofing 
when  the  workmen  are  at  the  task,  for  this  sort  of  work  re- 
quires minute  care ;  you  have  to  contend  against  a  subtle 
enemy,  —  water.  Water  seeks  all  issues,  profits  by  every 
negligence  to  invade  a  house ;  and  when  urged  by  the  wind, 
acquires  a  force  and  an  activity  which  it  does  not  have  when 
it  falls  vertically. 


■J  A  llllliil        Jim 


Fig.  60. 


"  So  in  climates  where  the  showers  are  gentle,  and  only  fall 
in  calm  times,  the  roofings  are  simple,  and  do  not  require  the 
numerous  precautions  which  are  necessary  here ;   and  that   is 


256  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

why  I  adopt  the  system  of  clasped  slatings.  Here,  the  north 
and  northwest  winds  are  violent,  and  bend  the  rain  and  snow  to 
an  angle  of  30  degrees.  Slating  which  is  only  held  at  the 
top  yawns,  and  rises  up  at  the  bottom;  and  the  rain  and  snow 
get  in.  This  is  why  we  have  given  our  roofings  an  angle  of 
60  degrees ;  for  the  rain,  violently  pushed,  usually  comes  per- 
pendicularly upon  this  inclination,  and  does  not  penetrate 
underneath  the  slating. 

"  The  gutters  also  require  great  care.  Their  bottom  must 
have  a  sufficient  inclination,  say  of  3  c.  per  metre,  to  allow  of 
the  running  off  of  the  water;  but  there  must  be  a  projection, 
a  small  step  of  4  to  5  c,  at  each  plate  of  metal,  whether  lead 
or  zinc,  which  forms  the  canal,  so  that  the  water  shall  not  pene- 
trate beneath  the  joinings.  These  necessities  demand  a  suffi- 
cient depth  for  the  gutters,  so  that  these  inclinations  of  the 
culminating  points  shall  be  at  the  falls  or  shafts  of  descent, 
and  that  these  shafts  shall  not  be  too  distant  from  each  other,  so 
that  the  water  should  not  have  to  travel  far.  Moreover,  issues 
or  small  gargoyles  should  be  arranged  on  the  external  facing 
of  the  gutters,  so  that  if  the  snow  or  ice  blocks  up  the  orifices 
of  the  shafts,  the  water  shall  find  a  place  to  run  down.  It  is 
prudent,  besides,  to  give  to  the  internal  reverse  of  the  gutter 
a  greater  height  than  the  outer  border,  so  that  the  water  shall 
in  no  case  penetrate  to  the  interior.  Here  (Fig.  61)  is  the 
profile  which  we  will  give  to  our  gutters.  The  coping  A 
having  a  height  of  40  c.,  the  plank  forming  the  outer   border 


Fig.  61. -PLUMBING   OF   THE   ROOF.  -  Page  256 


THE  ROOFING  AND  PLUMBING.  257 

of  the  gutter  will  be  33  c.  You  remember  that  on  the  shelf  of 
the  cornice  we  have  a  slope,  making  a  void  between  each 
junction,  to  ventilate  the  under  side  of  the  gutter,  and  facilitate 
the  running  off  of  the  water,  should  there  be  a  leakage.  Our 
gutter,  then,  will  be  composed  of  an  oaken  plank  B,  forming  a 
bottom ;  of  a  border  C,  forming  the  face ;  and  of  a  '  bead '  on  the 
opening  of  the  border.  This  plank  will  be  slightly  inclined, 
so  that  the  lead  of  the  gutter  shall  tend  the  less  to  settle. 

"The  fall  of  the  roof  being  at  D,  our  lead-plates  shall  be 
fixed,  by  aid  of  nails,  at  E,  shall  follow  the  section  of  the 
canal,  and  shall  turn  at  G,  forming  a  hook.  We  will  place 
on  the  face  another  lead-plate,  which  will  form  the  same 
hook  at  H,  then  at  7,  with  zinc  hooks  nailed  to  the  plank. 
These  plates  shall  be  maintained  on  the  face  by  screws,  the 
heads  of  which  will  be  masked  by  the  soldered  protuberances 
a ;  then  a  bead,  K,  will  be  placed  between  the  two  hooks 
G  and  H. 

"  Previously  the  bottoms  and  external  borders  of  the  gutters 
will  be  united  by  notched  iron  squares,  L,  which  shall  be  fixed 
at  the  base  of  the  coping.  These  shall  be  placed  outside  of, 
and  not  within,  the  gutters.  We  will  pierce  the  holes  to  receive 
the  little  gargoyles  M,  from  distance  to  distance  on  the  face 
of  the  gutter. 

"  The  shafts  or  funnels  of  descent  placed  in  the  re-entering 
angles  of  the  building  will  join  their  upper  orifice  in  a  space 
made    in    the  cornice,    as    is    shown  at  N.     A  leaden  'muff' 


258  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

will  unite  the  bottom  of  the  gutter  with  this  orifice,  and  will 
only  be  soldered  to  the  bottom  of  the  gutter,  remaining  free 
in  the  part  penetrating  the  funnel.  To  obtain  the  necessary 
inclinations  in  the  bottom  of  the  gutter,  '  dubbings  out '  of 
plaster,  with  supports  for  the  projections,  shall  be  established 
on  the  right  of  each  plate,  as  you  see  at  0.  These  plates 
should  not  exceed  a   length  of  three  metres  each. 

"The  ridges  of  the  roofing  and  the  dormer-windows  shall 
be  in  the  same  way  established  in  lead,  and  hooked  as  shown 
at  P.  Two  leaden  strips  b  are  nailed,  covering  the  slating  d ; 
then  the  free  parts  of  these  strips  are  rolled  with  leaden 
leaves  g,  which  themselves  become  hooked  at  It  with  the 
plate  i  which  covers  the  ridge.  The  lath  is,  besides,  held 
by  screws  the  heads  of  which  are  masked  by  a  piece  of  lead ; 
thus  it  cannot  be  stirred  by  the  wind. 

"  I  am  only  indicating  to  you  the  principal  points  in  plumb- 
ing work,  which  is  very  delicate  and  requires  great  care. 
You  will  study  this  minutely  when  the  work  is  being  clone, 
when  we  shall  have  good  workmen  employed  on  it.  The 
Parisian  plumbers  are  remarkably  skilful.  They  also  estab- 
lish the  distribution  of  water  in  houses,  the  water-closets, 
baths,  and  so  on.  But  let  me  give  you*  this  important  piece 
of  advice.  Plumbing  put  upon  unfloated  oak  becomes  oxidized 
very  rapidly.  The  acetic  acid  contained  in  this  wood  changes 
the  lead  placed  on  it  to  a  state  of  white  lead  in  a  few  months, 
especially  if  the  wood  is  not  ventilated  on  the  opposite  side. 


THE  ROOFING  AND  PLUMBING.  259 


I  will  point  out  the  woods  which  must  alone  be  used  for  the 
gutters  and  other  lead  work.  We  will  take  old  wood  from 
the  ruins  of  the  old  mill,  which  when  cut  up  will  he  in  the 
proper  condition,  since  it  has  long  since  shed  its  sap. 

"  Your  duties  as  inspector  will,  above  all,  consist,  when 
the  plumbers  set  to  work,  in  carefully  weighing  the  metals 
brought,  and  having  the  clippings  stored  in  your  presence. 
These  men,  skilful  in  their  workmanship,  work  rather  too  ar- 
tistically, and  readily  neglect  material  interests  :  they  let  the 
lead  and  tin  lie  about  everywhere  in  the  work-yard.  You 
see  that  we  must  not  expose  our  country  lads  to  temptations. 
You  must,  then,  weigh  the  metals  on  their  arrival,  and  then 
the  clippings.  The  latter  should  be  stored  and  securely  shut 
up.  The  difference  between  the  weight  of  the  metals  when 
they  arrive,  and  that  of  the  clippings,  shows  what  has  been 
used,  and  what  is  due,  as  the  plumbing  is  paid  for  by  weight. 
The  agreement  with  the  joiner  which  you  have  brought  indi- 
cates that  the  floors,  doors,  and  windows  should  be  sent  before 
the  end  of  August,  I  think." 

"  Yes  ;  and  the  contractor  said  that  the  floors  should  be 
begun  to  be  set  by  the  1st  of  August." 

"  It  is  too  soon  ;  we  must  let  the  building  dry  a  little.  This 
contractor  is  pretty  active  ;  if  he  begins  on  the  1st  of  Septem- 
ber, he  will  have  finished  by  the  1st  of  October ;  then  we  will 
set  the  painters  to  work,  and  by  the  1st  of  December  our  house 
may  be   regarded   as    finished.     We    must   also    think    of  the 


260  THE  STORY   OF  A   HOUSE. 

marble-cutter,  and  order  the  mantels  for  the  fireplaces.  It 
is  by  no  means  too  soon.  Did  you  give  the  joiner  the  dimen- 
sions of  the  fireplaces  ?  " 

"  Yes,  they  are  marked  on  the  plans." 

"Well,  make  duplicates  of  the  plans,  and  we  will  send 
them  to  the  marble-cutter.  We  must  deal,  for  this,  with  a 
Paris  house;  it  will  be  cheaper,  and  we  shall  have  a  wider 
choice.  Is  is  very  awkward  to  have  to  run  to  Paris  every 
day,  as  we  have  to  do  now,  for  a  hundred  details  of  a  con- 
struction. But,  excepting  in  such  centres  as  Lyons,  Tours, 
Bordeaux,  Bouen,  Nantes,  and  Marseilles,  where  well-supplied 
houses  are  to  be  found,  there  is  nothing  in  the  provinces.  It 
was  not-  so  formerly ;  it  is  one  of  the  fruits  of  our  system  of 
extreme  centralization. 

"  I  do  all  I  can  to  resist  this  unhappy  tendency ;  but  when 
one  is  in  a  huny,  he  must  necessarily  resort  to  the  great  centres 
of  the  building  industry.  We  should  have  to  wait  six  months 
and  pay  higher  prices,  to  get  our  chimney-mantels  at  Cha- 
teauroux  or  even  at  Tours.  The  contractor  to  whom  we 
applied  would  resort  to  Paris,  and  we  might  as  well  do  that 
ourselves.  As  for  the  greenhouse  on  the  garden,  and  the 
marquee  at  the  entrance,  we  may  rely  upon  our  locksmith, 
who  is  an  intelligent  workman.  The'  country  carpenters  and 
locksmiths  are  usually  good." 

"Why  is  that?" 

"Because    the    carpenters    have    preserved    their   corporate 


THE   ROOFING  AND  PLUMBING.  26 1 

organizations,  or  at  least  something  equivalent  to  them, 
and  tests  are  required  before  they  can  enter  them.  The  lock- 
smiths in  the  country  have  kept  up  the  use  of  the  forge  ;  and 
the  forge  is  the  whole  of  iron-work.  In  the  large  towns,  on 
the  other  hand,  they  have  been  taken  with  a  rage  for  casting 
and  founding,  and  workmen  on  buildings  have  become  unac- 
customed  to  the  minute  work  of  the  forge.  They  are  no 
longer  anything  but  adjusters.  Still,  there  has  been  a  reaction 
during  the  past  few  years ;  and  you  might  have  seen,  at  the 
Exposition  of  1867,  finely  executed  pieces  of  forge-work. 
But;  architects  also  have  become  unaccustomed  to  this  sort 
of  work,  and  have  little  knowledge  of  how  iron  is  worked  with 
the  hammer,  and  how  soldering  is  done  ;  they  give  their  con- 
tractors details  impossible  to  execute,  or  which  impose  many 
difficulties  upon  them.  Architects  ought  to  know  the  methods 
of  fabrication  in  each  industry  they  employ,  but  they  are  not 
taught  these  things  at  the  School  of  Fine  Arts.  It  is  thought 
better  to  show  them  that  matter  is  made  to  obey  all  the  fancies 
of  the  artist ;  this  gets  rid  of  explanations,  and  makes  instruc- 
tion a  more  easy  matter.  The  tax-payer  and  the  proprietor 
who  have  a  construction  built  pay  dearly  for  this  fine  doctrine, 
and  the  building  industries,  deprived  of  scientific  direction, 
are  misled  in  trying  to  realize  the  fancies  of  these  gentle- 
men." 


262  THE   STORY   OF  A   HOUSE. 


CHATTEE    XXVII 


APPROACHING   COMPLETION. 


^y^^-^^HE'  nearer  the  works    approached   completion,  the 


_s=* 


W\ 


vTW!|  more  complicated  became  the  office  labors.  "When 
'^Ai  ';  Paul  had  seen  that  nearly  all  the  details  had 
been  given  to  the  contractors,  he  had  thought  that  it  only 
remained  for  him  to  supervise  the  making  and  putting  in 
place  of  each  part,  according  to  his  cousin's  instructions ; 
but  the  office  work,  which  had  at  first  taken  two  or  three 
hours  a  day,  became  still  more  onerous.  The  calculations 
were  to  be  put  in  order  so  as  to  make  up  the  accounts ; 
it  was  necessary,  in  order  not  to  lose  any  time,  to  give  the 
orders  to  the  workmen,  so  that  they  should  be  on  hand  at 
the  opportune  moment  when  they  were  needed,  and  might 
work,  in  certain  cases,  in  concert.  The  joiner  had  sent,  at 
the  end  of  August,  a  part  of  the  doors  and  casements  and 
nearly  all  the  floorings.  It  was  then  time  to  call  upon 
the  locksmith  for  squares,  hinges,  and  cramps ;  to  get  the 
iron-ware  from  Tours;  hinge-plates,  bolts,  locks,  sliding-bolts, 
pins,  hinges,  and  so  on ;  and  to  send  the  measures  of  each 
of  these   pieces,   according   to   the    wood   and  the   nature    of 


APPROACHING    COMPLETION.  263 

the  objects.  The  cousin  went  to  Tours  to  get  samples  of 
the  iron-ware.  The  joiner  and  locksmith  were  at  work  at 
the  same  time  ;  and  often,  not  being  used  to  hurry,  it  was 
necessary  to  regulate  the  work  of  each,  that  no  time  might 
be  lost.  The  slaters  had  arrived,  and  continually  required 
the  assistance  of  the  mason  or  the  carpenter.  As  their 
time  was  paid  for  dearly,  it  was  important  to  give  them  no 
pretext  for  indolence. 

The  cousin  had  taught  Paul  how  to  take  account,  each 
evening,  of  the  different  work  to  be  entered  upon  the  next 
day,  and  how  to  distribute  to  each  his  part  before  quitting 
the  work-yard.  This  necessity  of  foreseeing  everything 
seemed  a  difficult  task  to  Paul ;  but  little  by  little  his 
mind  had  become  trained  to  it,  and  he  became  skilful  in 
calculating   the  work  with  ease. 

The  cousin  warned  him  that  he  must  not  count  on  the 
aid  of  the  workmen  in  this  methodical  system ;  and  he  him- 
self observed  that  most  of  them  were  not  ready  to  work 
when  the  time  came,  because  this  or  that  body  of  men, 
who  should  have  prepared  the  way  for  them,  had  not  been 
summoned.  Thus  time  passed  in  one  running  after  the 
other. 

"  The  workman,"  said  the  cousin,  "  is  naturally  improvi- 
dent, as  are  all  who  have  been  used  to  being  ordered,  and 
who  have  no  responsibility.  He  knows  that  such  and  such 
a  piece  of  work  is  to  be  done,  and   yet   he   leaves    it  up  to 


264  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

the  moment  of  its  execution,  without  ascertaining  whether 
he  will  have  the  materials  appropriate  to  his  task.  Thus, 
when  several  bodies  of  laborers  are  working  at  the  same 
time  in  a  yard,  the  architect  must  establish  order  and 
method,  and  have  foresight.  Otherwise,  much  time  is  lost; 
the  workmen  annoy  instead  of  helping  each  other ;  and  each 
does  his  work  without  regard  to  opportuneness.  You  are 
likely,  in  this  way,  to  have  to  begin  the  work  over  two  or 
three  times." 

The  chimney-men  came ;  and  though  everything  had  been 
provided  for,  in  the  construction,  for  the  passage  of  the 
smoke-shafts,  the  ventilation,  and  the  heating-funnels  of  the 
stove,  these  workmen  were  continually  having  recourse  to 
the  mason.  The  cousin,  having  arranged  everything,  told  his 
inspector  not  to  permit  the  chimney-men  to  pierce  holes 
here  and  there  for  the  passage  of  their  shafts,  without  re- 
gard to  the  construction  and  the  reach  of  the  floorings. 
But  the  workmen  did  not  find  passages,  as  they  scarcely 
looked  for  them ;  and  Papa  Branchu  was  obliged  to  indicate 
to  them  the  tubes,  to  open  the  mouths,  enlarge  this,  and 
contract  that.  Then  the  plumbers  placed  the  water-pipes, 
and  it  was  necessary  to  pierce  the  walls  for  them,  and  make 
holes  for  the  fastenings.  The  joiners  next  demanded  the 
mason  to  seal  up  the  framework.  It  was  necessary  to 
establish  order  in  all  this,  for  Papa  Branchu  lost  his  head, 
and  went  from  one  task  to  another  without   completing  any. 


APPROACHING    COMPLETION.  26$ 


This  part  of  his  work  made  Paul  familiar  with  details  of 
building  of  which  he  had  little  thought  a  few  months 
before. 

By  the  end  of  September  the  joinery  was  far  advanced, 
the  slating  quite  completed,  and  there  would  soon  be  noth- 
ing remaining  to  be  done  but  the  painting.  The  calcula- 
tions were  in  such  order  as  to  enable  a  ready  adjustment  of 
accounts. 

Meanwhile  M.  de  Gandelau  had  thoughts  of  sending  his 
son  back  to  school  at  the  end  of  the  vacation  ;  it  was 
necessary  that  he  should  complete  his  studies  ;  and  if  this 
year  had  not  been  lost  for  Paul,  he  was  still  too  young  to 
enter  upon  the  study  of  architecture,  even  should  he  desire 
to  pursue  that  profession.  The  subject  was  discussed  by 
the  family  in  the  evenings  toward  the  last  days  of  Septem- 
ber. The  cousin  remarked,  with  reason,  that  Paul  had 
learned  all  that  was  possible  in  this  little  work-yard ;  that 
should  he  remain  longer  in  the  country,  he  would  see  the 
painters  put  on  their  coatings,  and  that  that  would  not  be 
of  any  special  use  to  him  ;  and  that,  besides,  as  Madame 
Marie  would  not  come  home  until  spring,  it  would  be  wise 
to  let  the  house  dry  before  decorating  the  interior  and  put- 
ting up  the  hangings. 

The  idea  of  going  hack  to  school,  after  a  year  spent  in 
active  life,  almost  always  in  the  open  air,  did  not  please 
Paul   overmuch ;   but   he  felt   that   it  would    not   be  sensible 


266  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

to  do  otherwise.  M.  and  Madame  de  Gandelau  had  some 
matters  of  business  at  Paris,  and  were  to  pass  a  part  of 
the  winter  there. 

It  was  decided,  then,  that  the  cousin  should  remain  until 
the  work  was  completed,  so  that  nothing  might  he  in  jeop- 
ardy during  the  had  season ;  and  that  Paul  should  leave 
with  his  parents  early  in  October.  The  painting  would  not 
be  commenced  till  the  coldest  weather  was  past.  The  cousin 
undertook  to  supervise  this  operation,  and  to  go  over  the 
works  himself  whilst  he  stayed  at  Chateauroux,  whither 
important  business  would  call  him  towards  the  end  of  the 
winter. 

Everything  being  thus  settled,  Paul,  with  swelling  heart, 
left  his  dear  house  on  the  2d  of  October,  and  returned 
to  the  lyceum.  Most  of  his  schoolfellows  had,  like  him- 
self, passed  the  year  away  from  Paris,  and  their  studies  had 
been  suspended  ;  but  very  few  of  them  had  profitably  em- 
ployed their  time.  When  Paul  narrated  what  he  had  been 
doing  during  these  twelve  months,  some  of  them  made  fun 
of  him,  some  refused  to  believe  him,  and  all  gave  him  the 
nickname  of  "  Monsieur  the  architect." 

He  had  learned,  to  some  extent,  during  the  year,  to  reason, 
to  reflect  before  speaking,  and  to  listen  to  those  who  knew 
more  than  himself ;  and  he  thought  his  old  mates  rather 
flippant.  He  said  this  one  day  to  his  father,  with  a  tone  of 
vanity   mingled    with   sorrow.      M.    de    Gandelau    understood 


APPROACHING   COMPLETION.  267 

him,  and  did  not  let  the  occasion  of  correcting  the  bad  side 
of  his  thought  escape. 

"  It  is  possible,"  said  he,  "  that  your  mates  have  not  been 
so  fortunate  in  finding,  as  you  have  done,  some  one  willing 
to  take  the  pains  to  make  them  work  and  ripen  their  minds  ; 
but  it  would  be  an  unpardonable  fault,  and  above  all  harm- 
ful to  yourself,  to  appear  to  disdain  those  who,  on  a  single 
subject,  know  less  than  yourself.  Who  knows  whether  they 
have  not  acquired  a  superiority  in  other  things,  which  you 
have  failed  to  perceive  ?  You  must  not,  in  this  world  (and 
the  lyceum  is  a  little  world  much  like  the  great  one),  shut 
yourself  up  in  your  own  knowledge,  and  derive  vanity  from 
it,  but  try  and  discover  that  of  others,  and  avail  yourself 
of  it.  It  is  not  the  true  object  to  shine  because  you  know 
or  think  you  know  something,  and  thus  only  attract  to  your- 
self the  envy  of  fools,  and  the  smiles  of  the  people  of 
sense,  but  to  make  the  knowledge  of  others  shine.  Thus 
you  derive  a  double  benefit,  —  to  make  yourself  beloved,  and 
to  become  instructed.  It  is  not  at  all  surprising  that  your 
mates  do  not  know  as  much  as  you  do  about  the  building 
of  a  house ;  but  you  must  admit  that  this  knowledge  is 
trifling,  and  perhaps  they  have  more  correct  and  advanced 
ideas  on  other  subjects  than  you  yourself.  It  would  be 
ridiculous  to  conceal  from  your  mates  what  your  occupations 
have  been  during  your  stay  in  the  country,  but  why  insist 
upon  it  ?     If   one  of  them,    more    anxious    to   be    instructed, 


268  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

asks  you  questions,  if  you  see  that  he  takes  a  real  interest 
in  what  you  tell  him,  satisfy  his  wish  ;  but  be  always  re- 
served with  those  who  are  indifferent,  or  you  will  be  laughed 
at.  There  is  a  true  though  vulgar  saying,  that  people  who 
are  vain  of  what  they  know  are  made  to  '  pose,'  that  is,  are 
led  to  talk,  not  to  satisfy  a  proper  curiosity,  but  to  get  a 
chance  to  make  fun  of  them.  Remember  this,  for  it  is  as 
true  at  the  lyceum  as  elsewhere.  If  your  mind  has  devel- 
oped more  than  those  of  your  comrades,  it  is  easy  to  make 
it  apparent  to  every  one,  by  acquiring  more  rapidly  than  they 
the  lessons  you  all  study  together.  Obtain  the  first  place  in 
all  your  classes  ;  then  nobody  will  laugh  at  you,  and  every 
one  will  recognize  that  this  year,  which  has  been  a  useless 
one  to  many  of  the  others,  has  been  fruitful  for  you." 

Paul  understood,  and  on  returning  to  school  laid  aside  for 
the  while  his  architectural  memories.  He  soon  showed  that 
his  mind  had  developed,  and  at  the  beginning  of  the  new 
year  he  brought  his  father  excellent  reports  of  his  scholar- 
ship. 

His  mates,  however,  continued  to  give  him  the  nickname 
of  "the  architect." 

"  Well,"  said  he  to  himself,  when  they  called  him  so,  "  I 
will  prove  to  them  that  they  are  not  mistaken  ;  for  I  will 
become  an  architect." 


THE   HOUSE-WARMING.  269 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

THE   HOUSE-WAEMING. 

VEEYTHING  went  on  as  had  been  agreed  upon  j 
JJ.  the  painting  of  the  house,  begun  in  the  good 
weather  of  early  February,  was  completed  in 
April,  as  well  as  all  the  accessory  jobs.  M.  de  Gandelau, 
who  had  returned  to  the  country  towards  the  end  of  Janu- 
ary, had  had  the  little  park  laid  out  around  the  house,  and 
had  ordered  the  furniture  most  requisite  for  occupation,  leav- 
ing it  for  his  daughter  herself  to  choose  the  articles  conso- 
nant  with  her  taste. 

Madame  Marie  had  first  announced  that  she  should  return 
in  April,  and  then  in  May.  There  had  been  nothing  said, 
since  the  war,  about  the  house  in  the  letters  between  her- 
self and  her  mother.  Madame  Marie  had  not,  probably, 
taken  in  earnest  what  had  been  written  to  her  on  this  sub- 
ject; and  the  disastrous  events  of  1870  and  1871  seemed  to 
have  entirely  excluded  the  project  from  the  minds  of  all. 

Paul  was  anxious  to  give  his  sister  a  complete  surprise, 
and  had  begged  Madame  de  Gandelau  to  say  nothing  about 
the  house  to  Marie  ;  to  which  his  mother  readily  consented. 


2/0  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

Madame  Marie  was  written  to  that  the  family  would  not 
assemble  at  the  chateau  until  the  festival  of  Pentecost,  and 
that,  her  father  having  several  journeys  to  take,  she  need 
not  hurry  to  reach  France  before  that  time.  Madame  de 
Gandelau  received,  on  the  8th  of  May,  a  letter  from  Vienna, 
saying  that  Madame  Marie  and  her  husband  would  reach 
the  chateau  on  the  evening  of  the  19th,  the  day  of  Pen- 
tecost. 

Great  was  Paul's  joy  when  he  received  this  news.  He 
would  then  be  at  home,  and  enjoy  his  sister's  astonishment; 
for  he  had  feared  that  she  might  arrive  while  he  was  still  at 
school.  This  would  have  been  dreadful.  How  ardently  he 
worked  during  the  time  which  still  remained  before  the 
Pentecost !  He  wished  to  return  home  with  a  high  place  in 
his  class,  so  that  everybody  might  be  happy. 

The  day  of  departure,  so  impatiently  looked  for,  arrived. 
M.  de  Gandelau,  on  account  of  the  distance,  and  the  good 
reports  of  his  son,  had  obtained  permission  for  him  to  come 
home  on  Saturday  morning.  Paul  reached  the  chateau  at 
noon,  after  seven  months  of  absence.  The  cousin  had  of 
course  been  invited  to  the  family  festival.  Paul  scarcely 
took  time  to  embrace  his  parents  and  little  sister,  and  to 
breakfast  ;  he  burned  to  go  and  see  the  house. 

"  Pest  easy,"  said  his  mother,  "  it  will  wait  for  you." 

During  breakfast  his  father  asked  him  about  his  studies ; 
but  Paul,  in  his  turn,  overwhelmed  his  cousin  with  questions. 


THE   HOUSE-WARMING.  2JI 

"  Is  the  joinery  well  done  ?  And  the  painting  ?  What 
color  is  the  drawing-room  ?  And  the  plumber,  —  has  he  put 
the  crest  he  promised  on  the  roof  ? " 

"  You  will  see  it  all  presently,  and  between  now  and  night 
there  is  plenty  of  time  for  you  to  examine  everything  ill 
detail,  A  little  patience !  An  architect  should,  above  all,  be 
patient." 

The  aspect  of  the  house  had  changed  a  great  deal  since 
Paul's  departure.  The  approaches,  rid  of  rubbish,  were  care- 
fully sanded.  The  lawns  were  growing  green  ;  and  some  old 
trees  having  been  preserved  in  the  vicinity,  it  seemed  as  if 
the  house  were  already  inhabited.  Paul  could  not  refrain  from 
leaping  for  joy  to  see  how  pretty  and  picturesque  the  build- 
ing was.  On  reaching  the  valley  he  took  to  running  to  see 
it  nearer,  and  the  cousin  only  reached  the  steps  some  min- 
utes after  him.  Paul  had  seen  neither  the  entrance  marquee 
nor  the  greenhouse  at  the  side  of  the  billiard-room.  The 
plumbing  had  not  been  wholly  completed  when  he  went 
away,  for  the  spires  and  crests  were  not  done.  The  dormer- 
windows  were  not  crowned  by  their  flower-work.  The  case- 
ments were  scarcely  adjusted,  nor  was  the  glazing  inserted. 
These  last  jobs  are  like  the  border  around  a  drawing,  or  the 
frame  which  envelops  a  picture.  To  untrained  eyes,  this 
last  accessory  finishes  off  each  part,  adorns  the  whole,  and 
gives  unity  which  before  seemed  wanting. 

Paul  was  quite  satisfied  with  the  exterior  aspect. 


272  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

The  interior,  though  simple,  in  accordance  with  the  express 
injunctions  of  M.  de  Gandelau,  had  a  pleasant  appearance; 
there  were  no  signs  of  stucco  ornaments  or  gilding.  A  low 
oaken  panelling  extended  around  the  hall,  joining  the  door- 
frames. The  wood  of  the  panelling  and  door-frames  had  pre- 
served its  natural  color,  and  had  been  simply  washed  with 
flaxseed-oil  and  encaustic.  Above  the  panelling  the  walls, 
painted  stone-color  raised  by  strips  of  red,  gave  a  neat  and 
cheerful  aspect  to  the  hall,  which  invited  one  farther  on.  The 
drawing-room  was  surrounded  by  a  panelling  painted  white, 
1  m.  50  c.  in  height ;  the  fireplace,  wide  and  high,  was  suffi- 
cient to  warm  a  numerous  party.  Its  frame  was  of  wood ;  and 
on  its  raised  mantel,  in  an  oaken  frame,  a  pretty  bird's-eye 
view  of  M.  de  Gandelau's  domain  had  been  painted.  The 
ceiling,  with  its  beams  and  joists  covered  with  clear  tints 
raised  with  white  and  black  strips,  made  the  room  look 
higher,  gave  it  a  warm,  habitable  aspect,  and  displayed  the 
lights  and  shadows  of  an  amber  color  under  its  openings.  Be- 
tween the  ceiling  and  the  white  panelling  was  a  hanging  of 
painted  cloth.  The  chimney-piece  appeared  in  bold  relief  on 
these  foundations.  The  entrance  to  the  drawing-room  would 
have  been  somewhat  gloomy,  had  not  the  large  opening  into 
the  billiard-room  been  lighted  by  a  spacious  aperture  screened 
by  the  plants  with  which  the  little  greenhouse  was  furnished. 
But  what  made  the  drawing-room  especially  attractive  to 
Paul  was  the  bay-window,  all  glittering  with  light,  and  around 


THE   HOUSE-WARMING.  273 

which  was  placed  a  divan  of  chintz.  The  billiard-room  \ras 
also  surrounded  by  an  oaken  panelling  and  hangings  of 
painted  cloth.  A  curtain  shutting  off  the  bay-window  enabled 
one  to  retire  into  it  as  into  a  small  boudoir,  whence  the  view 
in  three  directions  was  charming.  The  plants  in  the  green- 
house caused  a  soft  quiet  light  to  penetrate  the  billiard-room  in 
the  middle.  The  dining-room  had  been  decorated  much  like 
the  billiard -room,  and  two  large  oaken  sideboards  were  placed 
between  the  panelling,  in  the  two  alcoves  built  to  receive  them. 
Paul  hurried  up  to  his  sister's  chamber,  all  hung  in  chintz, 
with  a  simple  brown  stylobate,  and  presenting  great  simplicity. 
The  ceiling,  decorated  as  were  those  below  stairs,  gave  it, 
however,  an  original  and  gay  appearance. 

Paul  was  anxious  to  see  everything,  and  his  cousin  allowed 
him  to  wander  at  will  over  the  house  for  an  hour,  as  he 
himself  was  in  conference  with  some  workmen  about  various 
details.  The  sun  was  low  in  the  heavens  when  they  returned 
to  the  chateau. 

"  Well,  little  cousin,  are  you  satisfied  with  your  work ; 
have  things  been  done,  in  your  absence,  to  please  you  ? " 

"I  wish  very  much  that  it  was  my  work,"  replied  Paul, 
"  and  I  am  sorry  not  to  have  been  able  to  follow  it  to  the 
end ;  for  it  seems  to  me,  in  seeing  the  completed  house, 
tli at  almost  everything  was  done  while  I  was  gone." 

"  It  is  with  buildings  as  with  all  human  works.  You  know 
the  saying,  '  Finis  coronat  opus.'     The  finishing  is  the  whole. 


274  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

It  does  not  require  the  most  labor  and  knowledge,  but  it 
demands  the  most  persistence,  method,  and  care,  as  I  have 
already  told  you.  You  have  been  really  useful  to  me  during 
the  construction ;  that  I  can  say  without  flattery,  because 
you  have  exerted  yourself  to  understand  and  execute  my  in- 
structions with  zeal  and  all  your  intelligence.  But  you  could 
have  occupied  yourself  but  little  during  the  completion  of 
the  work,  as  most  of  the  things  adjusted  at  the  last  have 
been  made  in  the  shops  and  have  been  sent  ready  finished. 
You  have  nothing  to  regret ;  you  would  have  lost  your  time 
here,  while,  it  appears,  you  have  used  it  to  good  purpose  at 
the  lyceum." 

"  I  have  never  seen  any  of  these  painted  hangings ;  they 
have  a  fine  effect ;  one  would  suppose  them  to  be  tapestry." 

"  Yes ;  I  don't  know  why  these  kinds  of  hangings,  which 
were  formerly  much  used,  have  been  abandoned  ;  for,  of  course, 
everybody  could  not  have  Flemish  or  Gobelin  tapestries,  or 
Cordova  leather.  This  kind  of  hangings  is  very  expensive, 
while  the  painted  hangings  do  not  cost  much  more  than  paper, 
and  cost  less  than  furniture  stuffs,  chintz  excepted.  But  it 
would  not  do  to  hang  a  drawing-room  or  dining-room  with 
chintz  ;  it  is  not  substantial  to  the  eye ;  it  is  proper  for  a 
bedchamber.  In  large  rooms  you  must  have  hangings  which 
have  a  velvety,  warm,  solid  aspect," 

"  And  are  these  painted  hangings  solid  ?  " 

"Yes,  both  in  appearance  and  in  reality;  this  is  proved  by 


THE   HOUSE -WA1UJIXG.  275 


the   hangings   to    be   seen   at    liheims,    which    date   from    the 
fifteenth  century,  and  are  perfectly  preserved." 

"  How  are  these  hangings  made  ? " 

"  Of  canvas  or  glazed  cloth,  with  coarse  fibres,  made  for 
the  purpose  ;  like  the  cloth  with  which  sacks  are  made.  These 
cloths  are  stretched  on  a  board  with  tacks ;  they  are  then 
dressed,  that  is,  a  layer  of  paste,  with  a  little  Spanish  white, 
is  spread  over  them.  When  this  is  dry  the  'distempering' 
is  proceeded  with,  as  in  the  decoration  of  a  theatre.  Any- 
thing can  be  thus  painted, — flowers,  ornaments,  landscapes, 
even  faces.  The  price  of  the  material  is  trifling,  and  what- 
ever value  these  hangings  have  depends  upon  the  artist's 
skill.  When  they  are  dry,  the  cloths  are  rolled  up  and  sent 
anywhere  at  little  cost ;  then  they  are  again  stretched  on  very 
thin  frames,  called  '  tapestry-frames.'  The  hangings  are  thus 
isolated  from  the  wall,  which  is  necessary  in  the  country,  where 
wall-paper  always  gets  spoiled  ;  so,  if  the  rooms  are  not  warmed 
in  winter,  and  moisture  is  feared,  the  hangings  are  unstretched, 
rolled  up  and  put  away  in  a  dry  place,  to  be  replaced  in  the 
spring.     The  same  is  done  with  tapestry." 

"  I  thought,  when  I  opened  the  drawing-room  door,  that 
you  had    had  tapestry  hung   there." 

"The  coarseness  of  the  fibre  reproduces  the  semblance  of 
tapestry,  and  the  distempering  assumes  the  dull  tone  of  the 
worsted.  Taken  as  a  whole,  the  hangings  of  our  house  cost 
scarcely   more   than   the   high-priced   paper   which   is    manu- 


276  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

facturecl  nowadays,  and  they  last  much  longer ;  without  count- 
ing that  you  are  sure  of  not  seeing  this  kind  of  hangings  in 
every  other  house." 

"  That  's  true.  I  have  often,  in  going  into  a  drawing-room, 
recognized  a  paper  which  I  have  seen  elsewhere.  But,  cousin, 
I  perceive  that  you  have  also  had  lightning-rods  put  up." 

"  Certainly ;  that  is  the  prudent  thing  to  do.  I  have  had 
two  put  up,  —  one  on  the  staircase  roof,  and  the  other  in  the 
middle  of  the  main  ridge." 

"  One  only  would  not  have  been  enough  ? " 

"  I  think  not ;  for  lightning-rods  only  protect  the  points 
included  in  a  cone  of  which  they  are  the  summit;  at  least, 
that  is  what  is  said.  For,  between  ourselves,  men  of  science 
are  not  agreed  on  the  effects  of  the  electric  fluid,  the  efficacy 
of  lightning-rods,  and  the  precautions  to  take  when  they  are 
put  up.  I  adhere  to  my  own  experience,  which  has  proved 
to  me  that  a  building,  no  matter  how  much  exposed,  is  never 
struck  when  it  has  many  lightning-rods,  when  the  conductors 
are  sufficient,  are  put  in  communication  with  each  other,  and 
when  their  lower  ends  sink  into  the  water  or  very  moist 
earth.  You  know  that  water  is  a  conductor  of  electricity; 
if  the  end  of  the  lightning-rod  sinks  into  dry  earth,  the  elec- 
tricity  accumulates  and  produces  very  dangerous  sparks  in 
return.  The  same  effect  is  produced  if  there  are  any  inter- 
ruptions in  the  conducting  wire ;  the  lightning-rod  then  pro- 
duces the  effect  of  a  Leyden  jar,  becomes  charged,  and  thus 


THE   HOUSE-WARMING.  2jy 

more  dangerous  than  useful.  Glass  isolators  have  been  recom- 
mended ;  but  I  have  never  seen  that  lightning-rods,  otherwise 
well  put  up,  cause  accidents  for  want  of  isolators.  I  think 
this  a  superfluous  precaution,  as  the  fluid  selects  the  most 
direct  path.  The  wire,  established  under  good  conditions, 
is  this  path;  and  it  is  necessary  to  avoid  making  sudden, 
angular  turnings,  and,  as  far  as  possible,  to  carry  the  wire  by 
the  shortest  way,  and  that  which  is  most  nearly  vertical,  to 
the  moist  soil." 

Nothing  was  talked  of  at  the  dinner-table  but  the  new 
house  and  Madame  Marie's  speedy  arrival.  There  was  much 
discussion  as  to  how  to  make  the  surprise  a  complete  one. 
Then  the  order  of  exercises  was  arranged.  M.  de  Gandelau 
had  given  thought  to  it.  The  contractors  and  shop-masters 
who  had  worked  upon  the  house  were  invited,  and  a  dinner 
was  to  be  provided  for  them  in  the  garden.  Paul's  tutor,  the 
mayor  and  curate  of  the  village,  some  neighbors  and  friends, 
among  them  M.  Durosay,  who  had  reappeared  in  the  vicinity, 
were  requested  to  lend  their  presence  to  the  house-warming. 
The  workmen  were  not  forgotten,  and  all  received  a  present 
of  money;  there  was  to  be  a  ball  in  the  evening,  in  the  new 
park,  for  the  country  people,  with  ample  refreshments ;  and 
the  poor  of  the  parish  were  to  receive  a  distribution  of  food 
and  clothing  throughout  the  day. 

Paul  was  much  afraid  that  his  sister  might  suspect  the 
surprise  which  was  being  prepared  for   her ;   that,  if  nothing 


2j3  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

was  said  of  the  house  which  had  been  referred  to  in  the 
letters  to  her  before  the  war,  this  silence  would  seem  sus- 
picious to  her. 

"  He  is  right,"  said  Madame  de  Gandelau.  "  If  Marie 
asks  us  what  has  become  of  this  project,  and  the  programme 
which  she  sent,  if  she  asks  about  our  occupations  during 
the  past  year,  we  shall  have  to  add  lies  to  lies;  we  shall 
get  into  difficulties,  and  it  is  a  little  distasteful  not  to  speak 
out  sincerely  to  her.  We  cannot  be  telling  lies  for  two  or 
three  hours;   besides,  Lucie  will   betray  us." 

"  0  no,"  said  Lucie,  "  I  will  not  say  a  word,  you  may 
be   sure  ! " 

"  Your  eyes  will  speak  for  you,  my  child.  I  will  manage 
that.  You  will  leave  me  alone  a  little  while  with  Marie. 
I  will  tell  her  that  Faul,  to  busy  himself  during  his  vaca- 
tion, has  built  a  little  house,  with  his  cousin's  advice.  I  will 
let  her  suppose  that  it  is  but  a  school-boy  fancy.  She  will 
think  it  only  a  pastime,  and  will  imagine  a  little  model  of  a 
building  well  made.  We  can  then  speak  at  ease,  in  a  tone 
of  pleasantry.  Then,  after  breakfast,  we  will  propose  to  her 
to  £0  and  see  Paul's  house." 

This  was  the  plan  agreed  upon. 

Paul  slept  little  that  night,  though  he  had  set  out  from 
Paris  very  early,  and  had  made  good  use  of  his  legs  all 
day. 

On  the  19th  of  May,  1872,  at  9.40  a.  m.,  M.  and  Madame 


THE  HOUSE-WARMING.  279 

X descended   at   the    station    at    X ■,   where   M.    de 

Gandelau  was  awaiting  them  with  a  handsome  carriage. 
Twenty  minutes  afterwards  they  entered  the  court-yard  of 
the  chateau.  It  is  useless  to  describe  the  embracings,  the 
joy  mingled  with  tears,  lavished  during  the  first  moments 
of  this  return. 

Madame  de  Gandelau  had  had  the  rooms  of  the  couple 
arranged  with  all  possible  care,  as  if  they  were  to  make  a 
long  stay  at  the  chateau. 

The  mother  did  not  fail  to  find  her  daughter  improved  ; 
Madame  Marie  found  Paul  grown  almost  to  manhood,  and 
Mademoiselle  Lucie  almost  a  young  lady. 

Thanks  to  Madame  de  Gandelau,  Paul's  house  was  only 
talked  of,  at  breakfast,  as  an  unimportant  incident.  The 
travels  of  Marie,  and  the  war,  were  the  subjects  of  conver- 
sation. There  was  plenty  to  speak  of,  after  an  absence  of 
twenty-two  months.  But  Paul  was  agitated  and  absent,  and 
his  sister  noticed  it.     Paul  blushed  to  his  eyes. 

"Paul  seems  to  be  thinking  of  something,"  said  M. 
X . 

M.  and  Madame  de  Gandelau  glanced  at  each  other  and 
smiled. 

"  What  is  it  all  ? "    asked  Marie.     "  A  conspiracy  ?  " 

"Perhaps,"  replied  her  mother,  "but  let  us  have  the 
pleasure  of  bringing  it  to  a  good  end." 

"  Go  on  conspiring,  mamma ;  I  will  assist  you  witli  all  my 
heart." 


28o  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

It  would  not  do  to  speak  of  taking  the  excursion  then, 
for  the  secret  would  be  betrayed.  Madame  de  Gandelau 
proposed  that   her   daughter  should  take  '  some   rest  after  her 

journey.      M.    N asked    permission    to    send    off    some 

urgent  letters,  and  the  chateau  became  silent  again. 

The  day  was  warm,  and  nothing  was  heard  but  the  buzz- 
ing of  the  insects  on  the  lawn.  Paul,  however,  could  not 
keep  still. 

"  You  are  no  diplomat  yet,"  said  his  cousin.  "  The  deuce  ! 
keep  quiet,  will  you  ?  You  are  the  only  person  astir  in 
the  house.  You  will  betray  yourself  if  you  keep  on.  Go  to 
your  room,  take  a  dull  book,  and  you  will  go  to  sleep,  and 
so  pass  the  time  away." 

"  But  the  invited  people  are  all  waiting  below,  yonder." 

"  0  yes,  that 's  true  !  Well,  mount  your  horse,  ride  to  the 
house,  and  ask  the  guests  to  gaze  at  the  marvels  of  the 
new  establishment,  and  to  have  patience.  Say  that  your 
sister  is  a  little  tired,  and  will  not  make  her  appearance 
till  this  afternoon.     Then  come  back." 

Paul  did  not  wait  to  have  this  repeated,  for  it  seemed 
impossible  to  him  to  keep  quiet.  He  would  have  given  ten 
years  of  his  life  if  his  sister  would  only  get  into  the 
carriage. 

It  is  hard  to  say  what  the  pony  thought  when  Paul 
brought  him  out  this  hot  day.  He  foamed  at  the  mouth 
when  he   reached   the   house,  and   many  of  the   guests   hur- 


THE   HOUSE-WARMING.  2S1 


ried  up  to  know  if  there  was  any  bad  news.  When  Paul, 
with  the  most  frightened  air  in  the  world,  told  them  that 
Madame  Marie  would  not  appear  for  some  hours,  as  she  was 
resting   herself,  they  all  said, — 

"If  that  is  all,  there  is  no  hurry;  it's  very  natural 
after  so  long  a  journey." 

Then  each  asked  news  of  Marie  and  her  husband;  and 
Paul  was  asked  to  look  at  this  and  that.  Paul  was  boiling 
over. 

"You  are  not  going  to  mount  your  horse  in  your  present 
state,"  said  the  mayor;  "you  are  all  perspiration,  and  your 
pony  is  white  with  foam;  rest  a  little,  and  drink  a  glass 
of  wine." 

He  had  to  surrender,  for  the  mayor  had  brought  a  small 
hamper  of  Saumur  wine.  They  drank  to  the  health  of  the 
newly  arrived  couple,  and  to  the  prosperity  of  the  house,  and 
so  Paul  lost  an  hour  there.  At  last  he  returned  towards 
the  chateau.  On  reaching  the  crest  of  the  hill  he  saw  the 
carriage  in  the  distance,  coming  towards  the  house.  He 
turned  aside  so  as  to  cross  to  the  party,  and  reached 
them  just  as  the  new  house  came  into  view. 

"  See,"  said  his  sister,  "  here  is  a  cavalier  quite  out  of  breath. 
Where  has  he  come  from  ?  Is  it  he  who  has  the  lead  of  the 
conspiracy  ? " 

"  Certainly,"  said  her  mother.      "  Look  ! " 

They  could  now  see  the  outline  of  Paul's  house,  its  slated 


282  THE   STORY  OF  A    HOUSE. 

roof  glittering  beneath  the  sun's  rays.  There  was  a  silence, 
and  some  emotion. 

"  I  had  a  suspicion,"  said  Marie,  embracing  her  mother  and 
father.  "  So  you  were  thinking  enough  of  us,  amid  the  anguish 
of  the  past  year,  to  realize  this  project  of  a  house,  which  I 
thought  to  be  only  a  castle  in  the  air  ?     And  Paul ! " 

"  Paul  has  been  at  work,"  said  M.  de  Gandelau,  "  and  has 
had  his  good  part  in  the  success  of  the  project.  If  he  ever 
becomes  a  famous  architect,  you  will  have  been  the  first 
cause    of  it." 

"  And  you,  my  friend,"  said  Madame  de  Gandelau  to  her 
son-in-law,  who  tenderly  kissed  her  hand,  "you  say  nothing!" 

"  M.  de  Gandelau  wrote  to  me,  and  I  was  in  the  secret. 
Marie  will  tell  you  how  well  I  have  kept  it ! " 

"  So  we  were  betrayed,  my  dear  Paul ! "  cried  his  mother. 

"  M.  de  Gandelau  wished  to  know  if  a  residence  here  would 
not  disturb  our  plans  for  the  future.  I  replied  to  him  that,  on 
the  contrary,  it  would  further  them,  and  that  the  only  reason 
why  I  did  not  undertake  to  build  a  house  here  after  our  mar- 
riage wras  the  fear  of  wounding  you,  and  making  you  imagine 
that  we  did  not  attach  to  your  maternal  hospitality  the  value 
you  know  how  to  give  it.  Marie  wishes  to  reside  here  a 
large  part  of  the  year ;  she  is  known  and  loved  in  this  vicinity, 
where  she  was  born.  Nothing  could  be  more  pleasant  to 
her  than  to  follow  your  example,  near  you,  almost  under 
your  eyes,  without  causing  you  the  embarrassment  of  a  perma- 


Fig.  62.  —  THE   HOUSE-OPENING.  —  Page  282. 


THE  HOUSE-WARMING.  283 

nent  sojourn  in  your  own  house.  I  had  no  need  of  consulting 
her,  for  I  knew  that  you  would  realize  the  dream  she  caressed, 
without  having  the  hope  of  its  near  realization." 

"  All  is  then  for  the  best,"  resumed  Madame  de  Gandelau, 
glancing  at  her  husband  ;  for  she  recalled  what  he  had  said  to 
her  one  evening,  two  years  before. 

The  family  were  welcomed  at  the  steps  of  the  new  house 
by  the  merry-makers.  Before  going  in,  they  walked  around  it ; 
and  finding  themselves  before  a  group  of  contractors  and 
master  artisans,  Paul  presented  them  to  his  sister,  saying  that 
it  was  owing  to  their  zeal  and  the  desire  to  see  her  soon 
settled  down  here,  that  the  building  had  been  completed  within 
two  years.  Paul's  well-turned  compliment  and  his  sister's 
graceful  bearing,  who  asked  after  the  families  of  each,  and 
expressed  a  wish  to  employ  them  often,  gained  the  hearts  of 
these  honest  people,  most  of  whom  had  known  her  from  child- 
hood up. 

Marie  wished  to  see  everything.  There  were  explosions 
of  joy  at  each   step,  and  Paul  was  many  times  embarrassed 

by   his    "client."     M.    N had   possessed   himself    of    the 

cousin,  who,  it  is  needless  to  say,  was  warmly  congratu- 
lated. 

M.  Durosay  was  constantly  expressing  his  admiration,  and 
repeating,  "  It  is  a  charming  seignorial  manor ! " 

"  But,"  said  Marie,  at  last,  turning  suddenly,  "  why  do  you 
call  this  a  manor  and  seignorial  ?     I  have  no  vassals,  nor  do 


284  THE   STORY  OF  A   HOUSE. 

I  wish  for  any.  Say,  then,  that  this  is  a  house  built  for  uie 
by  those  who  love  me,  which  shall  always  be  open  to  my 
friends,  and  always  accessible  to  those  who  have  need  of 
us." 

They  say  that  Paul  is  more  than  ever  determined  to  em- 
brace an  architect's  career. 


THE   END. 


Cambridge  :  Elentrotyped  and  Printed  by  Welch,  Bigelow,  and  Company. 


ARCHITECTURE. 


+  ^  •  ^ 


DISCOURSES   ON    ARCHITECTURE. 

FROM  THE    FRENCH 

OP 

VIOLLET-LE-DUC. 
TRANSLATED    BY    HENRY  VAN    BRUNT. 

FULLY    ILLUSTRATED. 

[In  I'ress.] 


HOMES,  AND  HOW  TO  MAKE  THEM. 

By   E.  G  GARDNER. 

ILLUSTRATED    liY    THE    AUTHOR. 
One  Volume.     Square   l'.Imo !§  2.00. 


"  It  is  a  treatise  on  house-building.  So  much  good  sense  and  good  taste  on  this  all- 
important  subject  are  not  often,  to  our  thinking,  embraced  within  an  equal  compass. 
Whether  the  reader  is  going  to  build  or  not,  he  will  enjoy  it  vastly  ;  and  if  he  is  ho 
should  give  it  his  most  diligent  attention." —  The  Congregationalist  (Boston). 


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and  thoroughly  sound  and  artistic  views,  has  a  practical  timely  value  for  multitudes  of 
readers.  We  wish  it  might  be  read  by  every  one  of  those  multitudes."  —  Buffalo 
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